









Gopght'N? 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 















*. 


Hppletons’ 
TTown ant* Country 
Xibracg 

No. 317 


“ERB” 


( ( 


ERB” 


/. 


BY 

W. PETT RIDGE 


, PI 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1902 


THE LIBRARY OP 
CONGRESS, 

Two Cnp.£fc> Receiveo 

OCT. 31 >902 

OnPVWtftWT ENTRY 

t^v.hiVVMv 

CLASS CVoOCc. No. 

Mr'V'A 

GOPY A. N 


Copyright, 1902 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


All rights reserved 


Published October, 1902. 


E R B 


u 


jj 


CHAPTER I 

“ But I am reminded,” shouted the scarlet-faced 
man on the chair, still keeping his voice to the high 
note on which he had started, “ I am reminded that 
my time is exhausted. Another talented speaker 
is ’ere to address you. I refer to our friend Barnes 
— better known per’aps to all of you as Erb.” 

The crescent-shaped crowd, growling applause, 
gave signs of movement, and a round-faced young 
man, standing at the side of the chair, looked up 
modestly at the sky. 

“ He, as you all know, ’ails from the district of 
Berminsey, where he exercises a certain amount 
of influence, and, in spite of his youth, is recog- 
nised as a positive power in the labour world. He 
is accustomed to hit straight from the shoulder, and 
he fears neether friend nor foe. I am going to tell 
you some’ing you very like don’t know, and there’s 
no necessity for it to go any further; that is that 
he stands a vurry good chance of being made the 
secretary of a new society. Friends! without fur- 
ther remarks from me, I call upon Comrade Barnes, 
better known as Erb, to address you. Thanks.” 


i 


2 


“ERB” 


The man stepped down from the chair. “ Where’s 
my hat been and gone ? ” he asked. “ Someone’s 
shifted it.” 

The hour being half past twelve, the crowd had 
no business of an urgent nature for thirty minutes. 
A few strolled away to join other groups, and Her- 
bert Barnes, as he took off his bowler hat and 
stepped upon the green chair, watched these sternly. 
Southwark Park was being wooed by the morning 
sun of spring-time, the green fresh grass covered 
a space that was here and there protected by warn- 
ing boards; the trees, after a shivering winter, 
were clothing themselves with a suit of new leaves. 
Away to the right, masts of shipping in the Surrey 
Commercial Docks showed high and gaunt above 
the middle-aged trees that fringed the park : on the 
other side rows of small houses pressed closely. A 
few light-haired Scandinavian sailors looked on 
amiably ; timber - carrying men, who showed a 
horny skin at the back of their necks, as badges of 
their labour, made up, with railway men in unac- 
customed mufti, the rest of the group. The new 
speaker’s features relaxed slightly as he saw two 
girls, conspicuous in the presence of so many men, 
join his audience, to resume his earlier manner 
when one exclaimed disappointedly, “ Oh, it’s only 
joring! ” and both strolled away towards a bed of 
flaming tulips. A tall young woman, slightly lame, 
took their place. 

“ Friends,” said Erb, very quietly, “ I was not 
altogether prepared to be called upon for an address 


“ERB M 


3 


this morning, but — All right, my lad,” this in reply 
to an appeal from the outside of the crescent, “ I’ll 
speak up presently. I’ll speak up when I’m ready, 
in a way that’ll make even you understand me.” 
The line of speakers near the chair smiled, and the 
inter jector’s friends remarked gleefully that this 
was one in the eye for him. “ I say that I came ’ere 
to this park this morning,” he went on, raising his 
voice defiantly, and smoothing his obstinate hair 
with one hand, “ more as a listener than a teacher, 
more ready to learn from others than to learn them 
anything myself.” The tall young person on the 
edge of the crowd winced. “ But as I have been 
called upon, I shall take the liberty of askin’ you 
one or two very straight questions. My friend 
from Camberwell, who preceded, referred to me as 
one accustomed to hit straight from the shoulder; 
that’s the way I’m going to play the game this 
morning. I stand up ’ere,” he said, commencing to 
finger the buttons of his waistcoat, “ as a working 
man addressing his fellow working men. Prouder 
titles there can never be, and if they was to offer to 
make me Lord Mayor of London at this present 
moment I should make answer to the effect that I 
preferred to be a working man.” A voice on the 
outside asked where he worked ? “I am a parcels 
carman on a railway I am, and I earn twenty-three 
shillings and sixpence a week.” A voice said it 
was a shame to pay a van-boy the money earned 
by grown men ; Herbert Barnes flushed at this and 
went on. The voice, deluded, threw at him an- 


4 


“ERB” 


other remark. “ Was he ” (asked the voice), “ was 
he a half-timer ? ” 

“ I'm going to spare one minute with this chap,” 
said Erb, turning suddenly. “ Bring him forward ! 
Stand back from him then, if he’s too shy for that, 
and let’s see who we’re dealing with. Oh, it’s you, 
is it?” 

“ Yus,” admitted the owner of the voice resent- 
fully, “ it is me.” 

“ You don’t look ’appy,” said Erb. 

“ I’ve been listening to you,” explained the man. 

“ Take your ’ands out of your pockets and let’s 
’ave a look at them.” The man turned to go, but 
the circle declined to permit this. “ Take a sight 
at his little hansy-pansy.” Order complied with. 
“ What d’you make of ’em ? ” “ Soft,” retorted the 
expert. “ I knew he was a loafer,” said Erb. “ Let 
him go now and prop up his favourite pubs ; I want 
to talk to genuine working men, not to bits of touch- 
wood. My first question is,” here he referred to 
the notes on the back of an envelope which he held 
in his hand, “ my first question is, what is it we 
working men most keenly desire at the present mo- 
ment ? ” 

“ Tankard of bitter, ” said someone. 

“ Ah ! ” Herbert Barnes whirled round, and 
pointed a forefinger at the humorist and his friends. 
“ There’s a man who speaks the truth. There’s a 
man what says jest the thing he really thinks. 
There’s a man -who utters that which is uppermost 
in his mind. There’s a man,” he leaned forward as 


“ERB” 


5 


though about to give one last applauding compli- 
ment, “ whose ’ighest ambition, whose most ele- 
vated thought, whose one supreme anxiety is for 
a tankard of bitter. Friends,” with a whirl of 
both arms, “ we talk about the tyranny and what 
not of capital ; the enmity of the upper circles, 
but there , jest over there , is the class of man that is 
our greatest opponent, the man from whom we 
have most to fear. A ten-kard of bit-ter ! ” he re- 
peated deliberately. 

“ Well, but,” said the humorist in an injured 
tone, “ I suppose a chep can open his mouth ? ” 

“ You can open your mouth, and when you do, 
apparently, it’s generally for the purpose of empty- 
ing down it a ” 

He hesitated. The crowd, glad to find personal- 
ities introduced, gave the words in a muffled 
chorus. 

“ Makin’ a bloomin’ song of it,” grumbled the 
humorist, going off. “ Some people can’t take a 
joke.” 

“ ’Aving finished with our friend,” said Herbert 
Barnes, loudly, “ we will now resume our attention 
to our original argument. What is it that the work- 
ing man ” 

His voice grew so much in volume that people 
at Christadelphian and other crowds near the iron 
gates deserted these, and came across in the hope 
of better sport. One of his arguments created 
some dissension, and two men, detaching themselves 
from the crescent, went off to debate it, and an in- 


6 


“ERB” 


terested circle formed around these, listening with 
almost pained interest, and seemingly (from the 
nodding of their heads) convinced by each argu- 
ment in turn. The round-faced young man on the 
Windsor chair, now aiming the fist of one hand into 
the palm of the other as he laboured at an argu- 
ment, and giving a tremendous and convincing 
thump as he made his point, noted the new crowd 
with approval: it was good to have said the stimu- 
lating thing. There were no interrupters now, but 
occasionally a voice would throw an approving sen- 
tence, caught neatly by Herbert Barnes, and used 
if he thought it wise or necessary; his best retorts 
were given with a glance at the one young woman 
of the crowd. He was in the middle of a long sen- 
tence decked out with many a paraphrase, and 
whole regiments of adjectives hurrying to the sup- 
port of a noun, when the hem of his jacket was 
pulled, and he stopped. “ Surely,” he said, in an 
undertone, “ the time ain’t up ? ” The man next 
him replied, “ Oh, ain’t it though ? ” rather caustic- 
ally. 

“ Friends,” said Herbert resuming his quiet 
voice, “ I’m afraid I’ve kept you rather long. 
We’ve had opportunities before of meetin’ each 
other; we shall ’ave opportunities again. I ’ave 
only to add one word.” The man next to him 
frowned up at him on hearing this ominous phrase. 
“ It’s my firm and steadfast opinion that we shall 
increase our power and magnify our strength only 
by sticking close, quite close, shoulder to shoulder, 


“ERB” 


7 


in what I may call the march of progress. Not 
otherwise shall we see the risin’ sun salute the 
dawn — ” (a momentary frown from the lame young 
woman had disconcerted him) — “ of labour’s tri- 
umph : not otherwise shall we — shall we ” 

“ Gain,” prompted the young man next to him, 
sulkily. 

“ Gain — thank you — gain the respect of future 
ages and the admiration of posterity ; not otherwise 
shall we lead others on in that battle which, to use 

the language of metaphor ” 

“ I say, old man,” whispered his neighbour, 
“ really ! Play the game.” 

“ I will not pursue the train of thought,” said 
Erb, “ on which I had, in a manner of speakin’, em- 
barked. One an’ all, friends — thank you — kind 
’tention — I now give way ! ” 

“ Feriends ! ” shouted the next man, stepping 
quickly on the chair, “ our comrade from Bermin- 
sey has been so far carried away by his own elo- 
quence as to overstep his time. In these circs. 
I will abstain from all preliminary remarks 
and come to the point at once. First of all, ’ow- 
ever ” 

The bowler-hatted men, who had spoken, 
seemed bored now with the proceedings, and tried 
to make out the exact time by the clock on the great 
biscuit factory; unable to do this, they appealed to 
Erb, who, heated with his oratorical efforts, and 
gratified to notice that the tall young woman had 
limped away directly that he had finished, produced 


8 


“ERB” 


a smart silver watch and gave the required informa- 
tion. They spoke in an undertone of the evening’s 
engagements: one proud man was to turn on the 
gas, as he cheerfully expressed it, at Victoria Park 
in the afternoon, another had had a long talk 
with a member of Parliament, and the member had 
shaken hands with him, “ Quite ’omely and affa- 
ble ” ; they all presented to the crowd a very serious 
and thoughtful and statesmanlike appearance as 
they whispered to each other. Flakes of the crowd 
began to fall away. The last speaker finished, 
hoarse and panting. 

“ Whose turn is it to carry the chair ? ” 

“ Erb’s ! ” said the others, quickly. 

“ But I thought ” he began. 

“ You thought wrong,” said the others. “ Be- 
sides you’re going straight ’ome.” 

They walked across the grass to the gates near 
the station, where men and children, and men with 
babies perched on their shoulders, were making way 
back to the homes from which they had been tem- 
porarily expelled in order to give wives and moth- 
ers opportunity for concentrating minds on the 
preparation for dinner. 

“ No use trying to blister you for ’alf a pint, 
Erb?” 

“ Waste of time,” said Erb. 

“ What d’you do with all your money ? ” 

“ I don’t find no difficulty,” he replied, “ in get- 
ting rid of it. Any spare cash goes in books. I’ve 
got a reg’lar little library at ’ome. John Stuart 


“ERB” 


9 


Mill and Professor Wallace and Robert Owen, and 
goodness knows what all.” 

“ The only reely sensible thing you’ve done, 
Erb,” remarked one, “ is not getting married.” 

“ That’s one of ’em,” he admitted. 

“ You don’t know what it is to be always buying 
boots for the kiddies.” 

“ Don’t want.” 

“ You single men get it all your own way. 
Same time, it’s a selfish life in my opinion. You 
don’t live for the sake of anybody.” 

“ I live for the sake of a good many people,” 
said Erb, dodging into the road to evade a square 
of girls carrying hymn books, and returning with 
his chair to the pavement. “ What I’m anxious to 
do is to see the world better and brighter, to organ- 
ise either by word of mouth or otherwise ” 

“ Old man ! ” protested the others indignantly, 
“ give us a rest. You ain’t in the park now.” 

He gave up the wooden chair to one of the men, 
who took it inside the passage of a house in Upper 
Grange Road. The others stepped across to a pub- 
lic-house; he nodded and went on. 

“ Won’t change your mind and ’ave one, Erb ? ” 

“ My mind,” he called back, “ is the one thing 
I never ’ardly change.” 

He did not relax his seriousness of demeanour 
until he had passed the high-walled enclosure of 
Bricklayers’ Arms Goods Station and had turned 
into Page’s Walk. There the fact was borne on 
the air that dinner-time was near, for attractive 


IO 


“ERB” 


scents of cooking issued out of every doorway; he 
moved his lips appreciatively and hurried on with 
a more cheerful air. Women slipped along with 
their aprons hiding plates of well-baked joints and 
potatoes: children waited anxiously in doorways 
for the signal to approach the one gay, over-satisfy- 
ing meal of the week, at which there was always 
an unusual exhibition of geniality and good temper 
that would eventually conciliate the worried mother, 
who had devoted the morning to providing the 
meal. Men returned from a morning at their clubs, 
where the hours had been chased by a third-rate 
music-hall entertainment; these walked slowly and 
hummed or whistled some enticing air with which 
they desired better acquaintance. Erb scraped his 
boots carefully on the edge of the pavement, and 
went up the stone steps of some model dwellings. 
From No. 17 came a broad hint of rabbit pie: a 
veiled suggestion of pickled pork. 

“ Well, young six foot,” he said cheerfully, “ is 
the banquet prepared, and are all our honoured 
guests assembled ? ” 

“ Wouldn’t be you,” remarked his short sister, 
quickly, “ if you didn’t come ’ome long before you 
were wanted.” She stood on tiptoe and glanced at 
herself in the glass over the mantelpiece, and rolled 
up her sleeves again; her head was covered with 
steel hair-curlers, which had held it fiercely since 
the previous morning. “ And me in me disables.” 

“ You look all right,” said Erb. 

“ I shall ’ave to be this afternoon.” 


“ERB” 


ii 


“ What’s going to ’appen this afternoon ? ” 

“ I told you ! ” remonstrated his sister. “ My 
new young man’s going to drop in for a cup of 
tea.” 

“ Which?” 

“ I never have more than one at a time.” 

“You mean the one in the hat place in South- 
wark Street.” 

“Bah ! ” said his young sister contemptuously. 
“ I gave him the sack weeks ago.” 

“ You’re always a choppin’ and a changin’,” said 
Erb tolerantly. 

“If you weren’t such a great gawk,” remarked 
his sister, bending to peep into the oven, “ you’d 
put the knives and forks, and not sit there like a — 
like a — I don’t know what.” 

Erb pulled a drawer underneath the table and 
complied. 

“ The other way about, stupid,” said the short 
girl wrathfully. “ You don’t take your knife in 
your left hand, do you? ’Pon me word, I often 
wonder that men was ever invented. I s’pose 
you’ve been talkin’ yourself ’ungry, as usual ? ” 

“ I addressed a large meeting,” said Erb, with a 
touch of his important manner, “ for upwards of 
eleven minutes.” 

“ Did they aim straight ? ” 

“ They were Very appreciative,” said Erb. “ One 
chap that interrupted I went for with ’orse, foot, 
and artillery.” 

“ Did you, though ? ” asked his short sister with 


12 


“ERB” 


reluctant admiration. “ Make him squirm, eh, 
Erb? Did ye call him names, or did you say some- 
thing about his nose ? ” 

“ I treated him with satire ! ” 

. “Weren’t there ladies present, then?” 

“ There was one, as it happened.” 

“ She’d been better off at ’ome,” remarked the 
girl severely. “ The minx.” 

“ She looked all right.” 

“ You can’t go by looks nowadays.” 

“ A tremendous weapon satire in the ’ands of 
a clever man,” said Erb exultantly, “ takes the 
starch out of ’em like drenching with a fire ’ose. 
Am I supposed to stay on ’ere whilst this new chap 
of yours mops up his tea ? ” 

“ Unless me lady comes down from Eaton 
Square to lord it over us all.” 

“ Nice occupation for a man of my — a man of 


“ Don’t say ‘ intellect,’ ” begged his sister. 
“ Spoils me appetite if I laugh much before din- 
ner.” 

A pleasure to watch the sister, her sleeves rolled 
up to the elbow, setting right the things on the 
table, placing, with the aid of an exact pair of eyes, 
the china cruet-stand at the very centre, fabricat- 
ing some mustard in a teacup, and pouring it clean- 
ly and carefully into the mustard-pot, glancing at 
the oven with an encouraging, “ ’Urry up there ! ” 
to the pie, and ever a wary look-out on the lid of 
the saucepan on the fire; the intervals she filled by 


“ERB n 


*3 


complaining of the price of coals, by dusting the 
mantelpiece, by asking questions about the morn- 
ing’s speeches, and by explaining with great inter- 
est the trouble that came to a girl in her workshop 
consequent on accepting engagement rings from 
two young men at the same time. Presently the 
one right moment arrived, and out came the rabbit 
pie, with a crust not to be equalled for lightness 
and flakiness in Page’s Walk, where, indeed, ex- 
periments in the higher walks of cookery usually 
proved so disastrous as to lead to domestic conten- 
tion and a review of all the varied grievances that 
had accumulated throughout the ages. Erb, at the 
head of the table, cut the pie, and his young sister 
sat at the side, with one foot on the insecure sup- 
port, so that the table scarcely wobbled under this 
trying operation; there ensued some argument be- 
cause Erb wanted to place both of the kidneys on 
her plate, and his sister would not hear of this, but 
a compromise was effected by sharing these dain- 
ties fairly and equally. His sister said grace. 

“ For what we are ’bout ’ceive, Lord make us 
truly thankful for.” 

“ Well ? ” she asked, rather nervously, as Erb 
took his first mouthful. Erb tasted with the air 
of a connoisseur. 

“ I’ve tasted worse,” he said. 

“ I was afraid how it was going to turn out,” 
confessed his sister with relief. “ It’s long since I 
tried my ’and at a pie.” 

“ There’s nothing anyone can’t do in this so- 
2 


14 


“ERB” 


called life of ours,” said Erb oracularly, “ providin' 
that we put our best into it. We’ve all been en- 
dowed ” 

“ Pickle pork all right ? ” 

“ The pickle pork isn’t nearly so bad as it might 
be,” said Erb. “ They couldn’t beat it in Eaton 
Square. As I was saying, the human brain ” 

“ If Alice comes down from Eaton Square this 
afternoon in anything new,” said his young sister 
definitely, “ I shall simply ignore it. In fact, I shall 
say, ‘ Oh, you havn’t got anything new for the 
spring then yet?’ That,” said the girl gleefully, 
“ that’ll make her aspirate her aitches.” 

“ We mustn’t forget that she’s our sister.” 

“ She’d like to get it out of her memory. Being 
parlourmaid in Eaton Square, and about five foot 
ten from top to toe, don’t entitle anybody to come 
down ’ere to Page’s Walk and act about as though 
Bricklayers’ Arms Station belonged to them. After 
all, she’s only a servant, Erb; there’s no getting 
away from that. She doesn’t get her evenings to 
herself like I do. Compared with her, I’m almost 
independent, mind you. I may ’ave to work ’ard 
in the day, I don’t deny it, but after seven o’clock 
at night I’m me own mistress, and I can go out 
and about jest as I jolly well like. Tip up the dish, 
and take some more gravy.” 

“ As a matter of fact you come ’ome ’ere, and 
you work about and get the place ready against me 
coming ’ome.” 

“ And why shouldn’t I ? ” demanded his young 


“ERB” 


15 


sister warmly, “ if I like to? Can't I please meself ? 
I’d a jolly sight rather do that than go and wait at 
table on a lot of over-dressed or under-dressed peo- 
ple, and obliged to keep a straight face whatever 
silly things you might ’ear them say. Is there a 
little bit more of the crust you can spare me ? ” 

“ I quite admit,” said Erb, supplying her offered 
plate, “ that to me there is something distaste- 
ful ” 

“ I only put the leastest bit of onion in.” 

“ I’m referrin’ now to the arrangement by which 
those who possess riches are able to call upon the 
working portion of the population to enable them 
to live idle, slothful lives. I may be wrong, but it 
seems to me ” 

“ I don’t blame them ,” remarked his sister 
quickly, with her involuntary twitching of the head. 
“ I should do the same if I was in their place. 
Tapioca pudding, Erb, for after. How does that' 
strike you ? ” 

“ A tapioca and me,” said Erb genially, “ have 
always been on speaking terms. I can always do 
with a tapioca. A tapioca and me are good chums. 
Don’t forget your stout.” 

“ Wish I was.” 

“ What I mean is, don’t forget to drink it. My 
friend Payne, by the way, may call with a mes- 
sage.” 

“ I’d as lief take doctor’s stuff,” said his sister 
with a wry face. “ What’s Payne calling about ? ” 

“ Orgenisation,” answered Erb mysteriously. 


i6 


“ERB” 


“ Oh,” she said casually, “ that rot.” 

“ You’ll have a lay down after dinner.” 

“ I shall be busy/’ answered his sister, “ making 
meself good-looking.” 

“ You’ll have a lay down,” Erb repeated firmly. 
“ Besides, you look all right. Your face is a bit 
white, but,” with a burst of compliment, “ you’d 
pass in a crowd. No cheese for me. You ’ave 
some.” 

“ I’ve done, thanks.” She bowed her head and 
spoke rapidly in an undertone “ F,” “ What we 

have received the Lord make us ” 

The fact that the tall sister from Eaton Square 
called before Louisa had changed and taken her 
hair out of curlers was attributed by Louisa to 
the tall sister’s unvarying desire to see Page’s 
Walk at its worst, to find thus excuse for shower- 
ing upon it her contempt. Alice, from a lofty 
height added to by an astonishing hat from which 
Louisa could not, in spite of herself, keep her eyes, 
complained bitterly to her sister of the state of Old 
Kent Road, upbraided Erb for the impudence of a 
’bus conductor who, because she had talked a little 
on the way, offered to carry her on to the Deaf and 
Dumb Asylum without extra charge. “ The vulgar 
humour of these poor men,” said Alice, unneces- 
sarily dusting a chair before sitting down, “ appals 
one.” She mentioned that the Eaton Square coach- 
man had offered to drive her anywhere she wanted 
to go, but that, for various reasons, into which she 
preferred not to enter, she had declined. 


“ERB M 


17 


“ I’ve brought you a bottle of Burgundy, Louisa. 
You’ll find it in my muff.” 

“To put on me ’andkerchief ? ” asked Louisa 
satirically. 

The tall sister glanced appealingly first at the 
stolid Erb, then at the ceiling. 

“ I am on good terms with the housekeeper,” she 
explained, “ for the moment, and there is no diffi- 
culty in obtaining any little thing of this kind. And 
you’re not looking well. You want picking up.” 

“ Your idea seems to be to give me a set down,” 
said Louisa. “ Going to take your things off ? ” 

“ I’ll just loosen my jacket. I won’t take it off, 
thank you.” 

“ You know the state of the lining better than I 
do. Erb, you’re silent all at once.” 

“ I was thinking,” said Erb, going across the 
room and taking the bottle from its resting place. 
“ How much does a bottle of Burgundy wine like 
this run into, Alice ? ” 

An exclamation came from the short girl as the 
tall sister took a pair of pince-nez from her breast, 
and, with great care, put on these new decorations 
in order to assist her in giving the answer. 

“ A bottle like that would ‘ run into,’ ” she ex- 
plained with a short laugh as she quoted Erb, 
“ about, what shall I say, six or seven shillings.” 

“ You can take it back,” he said shortly. 

“ Bra-vo, Erb,” whispered Louisa. 

“ I’m not going to be indebted,” said Erb, lean- 
ing his fists on the deal table, “ to Eaton Square or 


“ERB'* 


i8 

any other haunt of the aristocracy for philanthropy 
of any kind or description whatever, not even when 
they are not aware that they’re giving anything 
away. I should be stultifying meself if I did. If 
Louisa or me wants Burgundy we can buy it at the 
grocer’s, and, if necessary, go as far as to drink it, 
with the satisfied feeling that we’re not beholden 
to any one. Eh, Louisa ? ” 

“ You’ve hit it in once,” agreed the short sister. 
“ Cigar or coker-nut ? ” 

“ Therefore, whilst thankin’ you, one and all, 
for your doubtless well-meant kindness, perhaps, 
Alice, you’ll understand that my principles ” 

“ You needn’t bang the table about,” interrupted 
the tall sister. 

“ It’s ours,” retorted Louisa. “ We can bang it 
if we like.” 

“ My principles,” repeated Erb with relish, “ pre- 
vent me from accepting anything whatsoever con- 
cerning which I have reason to believe that it had 
not been acquired, or bought, or paid for by the 
party at whose hands — at whose hands ” 

“ That’s right, Erb,” said Louisa encouragingly. 

“ At whose hands that gift is, so to speak, at- 
tempted to be bestowed.” 

“ I shall look pretty,” protested Alice, “ carrying 
that about all the evening.” 

“ If it has that effect,” said her short sister, “ I 
don’t see how you can grumble. Come in the bed- 
room and show me how you manage this new way 
of doing up the hair.” 


“ERB” 


*9 


Erb read a chapter from Herbert Spencer whilst 
the girls were out of the room, well repaid if here 
and there he understood a sentence, or now and 
again caught sight of a view that soon eluded him. 
The book had been recommended by a speaker at 
the Liberal and Radical Club a few Sundays before, 
an Honourable Somebody, whose proud boast it 
was that he had unsuccessfully contested more seats 
at general and at bye-elections than any man belong- 
ing to his party, and who was, indeed, such an un- 
compromising bore, that he might well and appro- 
priately have been subsidized by his very grateful 
opponents. The Honourable Somebody had also 
strongly recommended a book by Ruskin, and this, 
too, Erb had procured from the Free Library, but 
had given it up after a brief struggle, confessing 
that it was a bit too thick even for him. Erb made 
notes on the back of parcels’ waybills when he came 
on something that seemed to him lucid : smiled to 
think of the start his companions would give when 
they heard him say in a speech, “ I am inclined to 
go with our friend Spencer and say with him — ” 
conveying in this way an impression that his ac- 
quaintance with literature was so complete that he 
had but to pick and choose from the treasures of his 
memory in order to give an illuminating quotation. 
He had made a bag of five when his sisters returned 
to the front room ; Louisa without her fierce hair 
curlers, her head decked out in a new fashion, and 
more amiable in her attitude towards her sister, and, 
indeed, holding her arm affectionately. Alice, with 


20 


“ERB” 


her hat off, slightly less austere, took up Erb’s book 
with a word of apology and remarked, “ Oh, yes ! 
in the manner of one recognising an old companion. 

“ Read it?” 

“ Well,” said the tall sister, “ I have not exactly 
read it, but I have heard of it. Two of our young 
ladies talk about it sometimes at meals : Lady Fran- 
ces declares she can’t understand half of it.” 

“ It’s easy enough,” said Erb, “ once you get the 
hang of the thing.” 

“ What are the young ladies like, Alice, at your 
new place ? ” asked the short sister at the looking- 
glass. 

“ I’ve often been going to tell you, but you’d 
never listen,” complained Alice. 

“ Tell us now ! ” 

They all became much interested in this sub- 
ject, and even Erb put some elucidating questions. 
Louisa looked admiringly at her tall sister as Alice 
went from this to the subject of visitors to Eaton 
Square : young Lady Frances, it seemed, occasion- 
ally gave mixed dinners, where no one knew any- 
body else, and even Lady Frances herself did not 
insist on previous acquaintance : the passport to 
these was notoriety. From this subject to the serv- 
ants’ coming party of the following Thursday week 
was an easy stage. Thursday had been selected to 
fit the convenience of certain visitors whose estab- 
lishments on that day closed early. 

“ Another foot or so,” said Louisa gazing up 
at her sister, “ and I might ’ave been in your shoes.” 


“ERB” 


21 


“ Height isn’t the only thing required. We shall 
be rather short of gentlemen, by the bye.” 

“ I can quite understand that.” 

“ I suppose, Erb,” said Alice to her brother 
doubtfully, “ you wouldn’t care to come if I got you 
an invite ? If you did, you’d have to remember that 
I told them you were an inspector: you mustn’t 
make me look like a story-teller.” 

“ Not much in my line,” growled Erb. “ Be- 
sides, I’ve got a big job coming on that I mustn’t 
tell you anything further about jest now.” 

“ I’d get you asked, Louisa,” she said candidly 
to her short sister, “ if you looked better than you 
do. I don’t think your work does you any good.” 

“ I’m not in it for me health,” retorted the other 
her head giving its involuntary shake. 

“ I’ve advised her to try something else,” agreed 
Erb, walking up and down the room. “ She’s only 
a bit of a girl, and the circumstances under which 
our female workers are compelled to carry on their 
duties amount to a species of white slavery which 
would not be tolerated in Russia.” 

“ Loud cheers ! ” commented Louisa. “ It’s 
about time my young man was ’ere. If he can’t 
keep his appointments I shall have to talk to him 
straight.” 

As though in answer to this threat a loud single 
knock came at the door. 

“ Let him wait a bit,” said Louisa. “ Do him 
good.” 

Another knock came and the girl went to the 


22 


“ERB H 


door to upbraid the caller for unmannerly impa- 
tience. She withdrew her head quickly. 

“ It’s Payne,” she announced to her brother. 

“ Deuce it is ! ” said Erb with excitement. 

In the passage stood a man with a stiff, short, 
red beard, his upper lip shaven; near to him, a newer 
arrival, a nervous youth, with a wired flower in his 
coat, who asked shyly whether Miss Barnes hap- 
pened by any chance to be at home. 

“ Trot in,” said Erb, jerking his head. The 
nervous youth took off his hat and obeyed. “ Well, 
Payne, old man,” said Erb to the other. 

“ I’ve won the three old ’uns over,” whispered 
the man with the red beard. 

“ Good on you ! ” 

“ They’ll sign to-morrow.” 

“ And if the answer ain’t satisfactory ? ” 

“ Then,” said Payne in an undertone, with his 
hand guarding the words at his mouth, “ then they’ll 
follow our lead.” 

“ And strike?” 

“ And strike ! ” said Payne. 


CHAPTER II 


London starts its day as freshly as the country, 
and in the early hours of a spring morning, before 
the scent of the tanning-yards is awake, even Ber- 
mondsey seems pure and bright. The loads of vege- 
tables strolling up Old Kent Road, the belated pock- 
ets of last year's hops coming, roped sky high, out 
of the gates of the goods station ; the rapid barrows 
returning from Covent Garden with supplies of flow- 
ers and fruit for suburban shops — all these help. At 
half-past seven comes a transition period. The day's 
work has begun and it has not begun. Every five 
minutes increases the haste of those who come out 
of the giant model dwellings, and up from the tribu- 
tary roads; girls, as they run, stab at their hats; 
men, at a trot, endeavour in vain to light their pipes, 
but continue trying as they go, because matches are 
cheap and time is priceless. The law of compensa- 
tion asserts itself : those who were merry last night 
and stayed out until half-past twelve to sing their 
way joyously home are, in the morning, thoughtful 
or surly, whilst those who eluded the attractions 
of the club or public-house rally them with much 
enjoyment on their obvious depression. 

Erb, after the exaltation of Sunday night’s meet- 
ing in St. George’s Road, where his unreasonable 

23 


24 


( ‘ERB M 


hope to see again the tall, lame girl had been dis- 
appointed, but where he had received from one of 
the leading men in the labour world, grown white- 
haired in the service, a gracious compliment (“ I 
was like my enthusiastic friend Barnes, here, when 
I was a lad,” the white-haired man had said), Erb 
experienced a slight reaction to find that here was 
the old matter-of-fact world and- — Monday morning ! 
An independent set, because of the fact that for so 
many hours of the day they were their own mas- 
ters, with a horse and van to take them about, and 
a vanboy for slave or despot, on Monday mornings 
carmen were specially curt of speech and unreliable 
of temper. In the stables was contentious dispute 
about horses, about the condition of the empty vans, 
about tardily arriving boys, about anything, in fact, 
that lent itself to disapproval. Erb’s boy, William 
Henry, was prompt as ever, but Erb found annoy- 
ance in the circumstance that his friend Payne, in- 
stead of taking up conversation in regard to an im- 
portant matter where it had been left the previous 
afternoon, now treated this as a subject of secondary 
importance, and as they drove up in the direction 
of town and the Borough, insisted, with the inter- 
ruptions that came when traffic parted their vans, 
on giving to Erb details of a domestic quarrel, in 
which his wife, Payne said, had been wrong and he 
had been right ; Payne seemed anxious, however, to 
obtain confirmation of this view from some impar- 
tial outsider. The boy on each van left his rope at 
the back to listen. 


“ERB” 


25 


“ Shall we have time to do that,” asked Erb at 
St. George’s Church, where there was a stop of 
traffic, “ before we start out on our first rounds ? 
I should like to see it under weigh.” 

“ It isn’t,” said Payne from his van, still ab- 
sorbed with his own affairs, “ it isn’t as though I 
was always nagging. I don’t seepose I’ve lifted me 
’and at her half-a-dozen times this year, and then 
only when she’s aggravated me.” 

“ It ought to have an effect if we can get every 
name signed to it.” 

“ Question is, has a legally married wife got any 
right to go throwing a man’s rel’tives in his face 
jest because they don’t come to see her? I ain’t 
responsible for my Uncle Richard, am I? If he’s 
gone and got himself into trouble in his time it ain’t 
me that’s got to be punished, is it? Very well, then, 
what’s the use of talkin’ ? ” 

William Henry, in Erb’s van, made a note. 
Never have an Uncle Richard. 

“ It must be unanimous,” remarked Erb, speak- 
ing in fragments, and endeavouring to entice 
Payne’s mind to imperial subjects as the police- 
man’s hand allowed them to go on, “ or else it 
might as well not be done at all. It’s a case of all 
of us sticking together like glue. If it don’t have no 
effect, what I’ve been thinking of is a deputation 
to the General Manager.” 

“ She’s not a going to manage me,” returned 
Payne, catching something of the last sentence. 
“ If I’m treated with proper respect I’m a lamb, 


26 


“ERB ’* 


but if anyone attempts to lord it over me, I’m sim- 
ply a ” 

William Henry, ordered back to the tail of his 
van, made note number two. Trouble brewing, and, 
in the case of wholesale discharges, a fair chance 
of honest lads gaining promotion. 

The van foreman waited at the entrance to the 
railway arch where the up parcels office, after many 
experiments in other places, had decided to settle ; 
he looked on narrowly as the vans drove up the 
side street. The van foreman had been a carman 
in his day (to say nothing of a more lowly start 
in boyhood), and he openly flattered himself that 
he knew the whole bag of tricks: he also some- 
times remarked acutely that anyone who had the 
best of him had only one other person to get over, 
and that other person did not live on this earth. 
The van foreman was not really so clever as he 
judged himself to be (but his case was neither 
unprecedented nor without imitators), and his 
maxim — which was that in dealing with men you 
had to keep hammering away at them — was 
one that in practice had at times defective re- 
sults. 

“ Yes,” said the van foreman gloomily, as 
though replying to a question, “ of course, you two 
are not the first to arrive. Barnes and Payne — 
Payne and Barnes. There ain’t a pin to choose 
between you. What’s your excuse ? ” 

“ Wh-oh ! ” said Erb to his horse, assuming that 
it had shied. “ Wo — ho ! my beauty. Don’t be 


“E R B »* 


27 


frightened at him. He ain’t pretty, but he’s quite 
harmless.” 

“ I want no sauce,” snapped the van foreman. 
“ Good manners cost nothing.” 

“ You might as well replenish your stock, then,” 
retorted Erb. 

“ Re-plenish ! ” echoed the other disgustedly. 
“ Why don’t you talk the Queen’s English like 
what I do? What’s all this I ’ear about a round 
robin to the guv’nor?” 

“ Fond of game, isn’t he?” 

“ Look ’ere,” said the van foreman seriously, 
“ I’m not going to bemean meself by talking to 
you. I’ve spoken to some of the others, and I’ve 
told them there’s the sack for every man jack of 
’em that signs it. I give no such warning to you, 
mind : I simply turn me back on you, like this.” 

“ Your back view’s bad enough,” called Erb as 
the other went off ; “ but your front view’s some- 
thing awful.” 

“ I was a better lookin’ chap than you,” called 
the van foreman hotly, “ once.” 

“ Once ain’t often,” said Erb. 

He backed his van into position, and was about 
to cry, “ Chain on ! ” but William Henry had an- 
ticipated the order, and had, moreover, fetched from 
the booking-up desk the long white delivery sheet, 
with its entries of names and addresses. 

William Henry also assisted in loading up the 
parcels with more than usual alacrity, that he might 
have a few minutes in which to saunter about with 


28 


“ERB” 


an air of unconcern and pick up news concerning 
possible vacancies. The carmen who had finished 
their work of loading, went up to the further end 
of the arch, waiting for the hour of twenty to nine, 
and snatching the opportunity for discussing a mat- 
ter of public interest. Erb followed, watched keenly 
by the van foreman. 

“ Got the document, Erb ? ” 

“ 'Ere it is,” said Erb importantly, drawing a 
long envelope from the inside pocket of his uniform 
jacket. “ All drawn up in due order, I think.” 

“ What we’ve got to be careful about,” said a 
cautious, elderly carman preparing to listen, “ is not 
to pitch it too strong, and not to pitch it too weak.” 

“ The same first-class idea occurred to me,” re- 
marked Erb. 

“ Read it out to ’em, Erb,” suggested Payne. 

Pride and a suggestion of Southwark Park was 
in the young man’s tones, as, unfolding the sheet of 
foolscap paper, he proceeded to recite the terms of 
the memorial. The style was, perhaps, slightly too 
elaborate for the occasion, but this appeared to be 
no defect in the eyes and ears of the listening men. 

“ * And your petitioners respectfully submit, 
therefore, these facts to your notice, viz.,’ ” 

“ What does 4 viz.’ mean ? ” asked the cautious, 
elderly carman. 

“ ‘ Viz,’ ” explained Erb, “ is quite a well-known 
phrase, always used in official communications. 
‘ To your notice, viz., the long hours which we work, 
the paucity of pay, and the mediocre prospects of 


“ERB” 


29 


advancement. Whilst your petitioners are unwilling 
to resort to extreme measures, they trust it will be 
understood that there exists a general and a unani- 
mous determination to improve or ameliorate ’ ” 

“ He'll never understand words like that,” said 
the elderly carman despairingly. “ Why, I can only 
guess at their meaning.” 

“ ‘ Or ameliorate the present environments un- 
der which they are forced to carry on their duties. 
Asking the favour of an early answer, We are, sir, 
your obedient servants ’ ” 

“ That,” concluded Erb, “ that is where we all 
sign.” 

“ Your respectful and obedient servants, I should 
say,” suggested the elderly carman. 

“ Hark ! ” said Erb authoritatively. “ The terms 
of this have all been very carefully considered, and 
once you begin to interfere with them, you’ll mar 
the unity of the whole thing. Payne, got your 
pen ? ” 

Payne seemed to feel that he was adjusting his 
quarrel with domestic events by dipping his pen- 
holder into an inkstand and signing his name fierce- 
ly. Erb followed, and the other men contributed 
to the irregular circle of names. The elderly car- 
man hesitated, but one of his colleagues remarked 
that one might as well be hung for a sheep as a 
lamb, and the elderly carman appeared to derive 
great encouragement from this, signing his name 
carefully and legibly, and looking at it when done 
with something like affection. 

3 


3 ° 


“ERB” 


“ I sha’n’t ask you to get away with your loads 
many more times,” shouted the van foreman from 
the other end of the arch. “ Yes, it’s you I’m talk- 
in’ to. You’re all champion mikers, every one of 
you. I wouldn’t give three ’apenee a dozen for 
you, not if I was allowed to pick and choose.” 

The men flushed. 

“ Chaps,” said Erb quickly, “ there’s only one 
thing we might add. Shall we recommend that this 
old nuisance be done away with? I can easily 
work it in.” 

“ I beg to second that,” growled Payne. 

“ Thought you wasn’t taking any suggestions ? ” 
remarked the elderly carman. 

“ This is more than a suggestion,” said Erb 
masterfully. “ Are we all agreed ? ” The men held 
up their hands, shoulder high. “ Much obliged ! 
Payne, after you with that pen.” 

Many of the van boys had snatched the oppor- 
tunity to have a furtive game of banker with picture 
cards, but William Henry stood precisely at the 
tail of his mate’s van, responding in no way to the 
raillery of his young comrades, who, in their efforts 
to move him from the path of good behaviour, ex- 
hausted a limited stock of adjectives, and a generous 
supply of nouns. To William Henry, as a safe lad, 
was entrusted the duty of taking the long envelope 
to the Chief’s office, and his quick ears having 
gained something of the nature of the communica- 
tion, he ran, and meeting the Chief at the door of 
the private office, gave it up with the message, “ An- 


“ERB” 


3i 


swer wanted sharp, sir ! ” a gratuitous remark, ill- 
calculated to secure for it an amiable reception. 

The labour member who had given to Erb a 
golden compliment on the previous evening had 
many proud titles ; he was accustomed to say that 
the one he prized highest was that of “ a manager 
of men,” and, indeed, the labour member had lost 
the colour of his hair and added lines to his face 
by piloting many a strike, guiding warily many a 
lock-out, but he had been rewarded by the universal 
acknowledgment that he could induce the men to 
do as he wished them to do ; having gained this 
position, any idea of revolt against his command 
appeared, on the face of it, preposterous. It pleased 
Erb, as he drove his soberly-behaved horse and his 
van through the City to commence deliveries in the 
Pimlico district, to think that he, too, at the very 
outset, had impressed the colleagues with a confi- 
dent manner. It was fine to see the wavering minds 
pin themselves to his superior direction, and give to 
him the duty of leading. He rehearsed to himself, 
as he drove along the Embankment, the speech 
which he would make when they held a meeting 
consequent on a refusal of the application ; one sen- 
tence that came to his mind made him glow with 
delight, and he felt sure it had occurred to no one 
before. “ United we must succeed ; divided we most 
certainly shall fail ! ” He talked himself into such 
a state of ecstasy (William Henry, the while, swing- 
ing out by the rope, and repelling the impertinent 
action of boys driving shop cycles, who desired to 


32 


“ERB” 


economise labour by holding on at the rear of the 
van), that when he drove his thoughtful horse round 
by the Houses of Parliament it seemed to him that 
if the House were sitting he had almost achieved 
the right to get down and go in there and vote. 
At his first delivery to a contumacious butler, ill- 
tempered from an impudent attempt on the part of 
his master to cut down expenses, recalled Erb to 
his actual position in life, and as he went on Gros- 
venor Road way he was again a carman at twenty- 
three shillings and sixpence a week. Later, at a 
coffee shop which proclaimed itself “ A Good Pull- 
up for Carmen,” and added proudly, “ Others Com- 
pete, Few Equal, None Excel,” he stopped for 
lunch, having by that time nearly finished his first 
round of deliveries. 

He shouted an order of “ Bag on ! ” to William 
Henry, and, stepping down, went inside. Other 
drivers from other companies were in the coffee- 
house, and Erb, taking a seat in one of the pews, 
listened with tolerant interest to their confused ar- 
guments. All the variously uniformed men had a 
grievance, and all were quite certain that some- 
thing ought to be done. The least vague of all 
the preferred solutions came from a North Western 
man, who said that “ We must be up and doing.” 

“ The great thing is,” went on the North West- 
ern man, encouraged by the absence of contradic- 
tion, “ to keep on pegging away.” 

“ Which way?” asked the carman at the end 
of the room. 


“ERB” 


33 


“ That” said the North Western man modestly, 
“ that it is not for me to decide. I leave that to 
wiser men than me. I candidly confess that I’m 
not one of your busybodies.” 

“ Seems to me,” remarked a Great Western man, 
cutting the thick bacon on his bread gloomily, “ that 
every other department’s getting a look in except- 
ing the drivers. We’re out of sight part of the 
day, and out of mind all the day. Take my own 
case. I’ve got children growing up, and I find,” 
here the Great Western man rapped the handle 
end of his knife on the table, “ I find they all want 
boots.” 

“ What can I get for you ? ” said the matronly 
waitress, coming down the aisle. 

“ I didn’t call you, my dear. I was only ar- 
guin’.” 

“ Man-like ! ” said the waitress, going back to 
the kitchen. 

“ I find ’em in boots,” went on the man, “ but 
do I ever ’ave a chance of seeing the kids ’cept Sun- 
day ? ” A murmur of anticipatory agreement with 
the coming answer went round. “ My youngest is 
about a year old, and takes notice in a manner that’s 
simply wonderful— my wife says so, everybody says 
so, but he forgets me from one Sunday to another, 
and screams like anything when he catches sight 
of me.” 

“ P’raps you smile at him, old man ? ” 

“ And that’s why I agree,” concluded the Great 
Western man earnestly, “ that some’ing ought to 


34 


“ERB” 


be done. Has anybody got ’alf a pipe of ’bacca to 
spare ? ” 

“ What we want,” remarked the North Western 
man, “ is a chap that’ll persuade us to ” 

“ Yes, but — after you with the metch, old sort 
— but where is he ? ” 

Erb closed the black shiny bag which his sister 
Louisa had packed and stood out in the gangway 
between the pews. He held his peaked cap in his 
hand, and fingered at the brass buttons of his waist- 
coat. 

“ I’ve took the liberty of listening,” he said, 
speaking slowly, “ to the remarks you chaps have 
been making, and if there’s two minutes to spare, 
I should like to offer my views. I sha’n’t take 
more’n two minutes.” 

” Fire away,” said the others, leaning out of 
their pews. 

“ Let me first of all preface my observations by 
telling you what we have done only this morning at 
my place. We have simply — ” Erb described the 
procedure ; the men listened interestedly. “ And 
now let me tell you, friends, what we propose to 
do when this round robin of ours gets the usual 
sort of answer. We shall fix on a certain morning 
— this is in confidence, mind. We shall resolve 
upon a certain, definite, and final course of action. 
Then it’ll be war, and we shall find out who’s mas- 
ter.” 

“ And s’posing they are ? ” 

“ They would stand no chance,” cried Erb, “ if 


“ERB” 


35 


we could but preserve a united front. But you’re 
too nervous, all of you, to do that. You’ve been 
tied up, hand and foot, too long to know how to 
move. It will be for us at our place to show you a 
lead, and I can only ’ope for your sakes that when 
we prove successful you will ’ave the common-sense, 
the energy, and the intelligence to go and do like- 
wise. Meanwhile, so long ! ” 

He punched at the inside of his peaked cap and 
strode out of the doorway, an exit that would have 
been dignified had not the stout waitress hurried 
down after him with a demand for fourpence-half- 
penny. Even in these circumstances, he had the 
gratification of hearing inquiries, “ Who is he, who 
is he ? ” And one commendatory remark from the 
North Western man, “ Got his ’ead screwed on the 
right way.” 

“ Now, why ain’t you lookin’ after the van, Wil- 
liam Henry ? ” asked Erb appealingly. 

“ I’m very sorry, mate,” said the boy, “ but I 
never can resist the temptation of listening to you.” 

Erb accepted the explanation. He climbed up 
to his seat, and, awakening the well-fed horse, in- 
duced him to finish the deliveries. Eventually he 
drove back to the station. There he heard the latest 
news. The Chief had sent for the Van Foreman, a 
cabinet council had been held, the Chief had gone 
now to consult the General Manager. So far, good ; 
the dovecotes had been fluttered. He met five or six 
of the carmen as he waited for his second deliveries, 
and criticised the writing of the clerk at the book- 


3 $ 


n ERB M 


ing-up desk ; they were nervous now that the arrow 
had been shot, and they impressed upon Erb the 
fact that it was he who really pulled the bow. He 
accepted this implication of responsibility, his atti- 
tude slightly reassured the nervous. A young 
horse was brought up from the stables to take the 
place of the solemn animal, and its eccentric and 
sportive behaviour served to occupy Erb’s thoughts 
during the afternoon. He had occasion to deliver 
a hamper of vegetables at a house in Eaton Square, 
and to collect a basket of laundry, and as he waited 
he saw his sister Alice on the steps of her house 
whistling for a hansom; he would have offered as- 
sistance, only that he remembered that in the eyes 
of that house he was an Inspector; when a cab an- 
swered the appeal a very tall, neatly-dressed young 
woman came down the steps, preceded by Alice, 
who ran to guard the muddy wheel with a basket 
protector. An attractive face the tall young woman 
had. Erb would have thought more of it, but for 
the fact that at this period of his career he had 
determined to wave from his purview all members 
of the fair sex, excepting only his sisters ; the work 
before him would not permit of the interference 
that women sometimes gave. He resented the fact 
that the lame young woman of Southwark Park 
would not go from his memory. Erb reproved him 
sharply, and ordered him to mind his own business. 

“ Carman Barnes. To see me here, on to-day, 
certain.” 

This was the endorsement in red ink on the 


“ERB” 


57 


sheet of blue foolscap which had set out the griev- 
ances of the carmen, and Erb flushed with pride to 
find that he, and he alone, had been selected to 
argue the grievances of his colleagues with the 
Chief of the department. The men appeared not to 
grudge him the honour, and the van foreman held 
himself austerely in a corner, declining to open his 
mouth, as though fearful of disclosing an impor- 
tant state secret. Erb thought it diplomatic to ask 
the others whether they had any suggestions to 
offer for the coming debate (this without any inten- 
tion of accepting advice) ; they all declared moodily 
that it was he who had led them into trouble, and 
his, therefore, should be the task of getting them 
out. Payne wished him good luck, but appeared to 
have no great confidence in his own powers of 
prophecy. Erb washed in a zinc pail, parted his 
obstinate hair carefully with the doubtful assistance 
given by a cheap pocket mirror which William 
Henry always carried, and, watched by the car- 
men and chaffed by the casually interested porters 
and clerks, he went to endure that experience of 
an interview with the Chief, known as “ going on 
the carpet.” The Chief was engaged for the mo- 
ment; would Carman Barnes please wait for a few 
moments? It happened that Erb himself was boil- 
ing for the consultation, and this enforced delay of 
a few moments, which grew into ten minutes, dis- 
concerted him ; when at last a shorthand clerk came 
out, and he was admitted into the presence, some of 
his warm confidence had cooled. The Chief, a big, 




38 


U ER B * ' 


polite, good-tempered man, sat at the table signing 
letters. 

“ Shan’t keep you half a second,” he remarked, 
looking up. 

“ Very good, sir.” 

“ Beautiful weather,” said the Chief absently, as 
he read, “ for the time of the year.” 

“ We can’t complain, sir,” said Erb meaningly, 
“ of the weather.” The clock up high on the wall 
of the office ticked on, and Erb endeavoured to mar- 
shal his arguments in his mind afresh. 

“ That little job is finished,” said the Chief, dab- 
bing the blotting paper on his last signature. “ I 
wonder how many times I sign my name in the 
course of a day ; if only I had as many sovereigns. 
Let me see, what was it we wanted to talk to each 
other about ? ” Erb produced the memorial, and 
stood cap in hand as the Chief read it with an air 
that suggested no previous knowledge of the com- 
munication. “ Oh, yes,” said the Chief, “ of course. 
I remember now. Something about the hours of 
duty.” 

“ And wages,” said Erb, “ et cetera.” 

“ I get so much to think of,” went on the Chief, 
autobiographically, “ that unless I put it all down 
on a memo I forget about it. Now when I was 
your age. What are you, Barnes ? ” 

“ Twenty-one next birthday, sir.” 

“ Ah,” sighed the Chief, “ a fine thing to be one 
and twenty, you’ve got all the world before you. 
You ought to be as happy as a lord at your age.” 


“ERB M 


39 


“ The ’appiness that a lord would extract from 
twenty-three and six a week would go in a waist- 
coat pocket. ,, 

“ There’s something in that,” admitted the other, 
cheerfully. “ But, bless my soul, there are plenty 
worse off. A man can grub along very well on it so 
long as he is not ambitious.” 

“ And why shouldn’t a man be ambitious ? ” de- 
manded Erb. “ Some people raise themselves up 
from small beginnings ” — the Chief took up his pa- 
per cutter — “ and all honour to them for it.” The 
Chief laid down the paper cutter. “ It must be a 
great satisfaction to look back when they are get- 
ting their three or four ’undred a year and think 
of the time when they were getting only a quid a 
week. It must make ’em proud of themselves, and 
their wife and their women folk must be proud of 
’em too.” 

“ Married, Barnes ? ” 

“ No, sir. Live with my sister.” 

“ Engaged perhaps ? ” 

“ Not on twenty-three and six.” 

Difficult to use the well-rehearsed arguments 
and the violent phrases to a courteous man, who 
showed so much personal interest. If he would but 
raise his voice or show defiant want of sympathy. 

“ But some of us are married, sir,” Erb went 
on, “ and some of us have children, and I tell you 
straight, when the rent is paid, and when the chil- 
dren’s clothes are bought and just the necessaries 
of life are purchased, there’s precious little left over. 


40 


“ERB” 


You can’t realise perhaps, sir, what it means to look 
at every penny, and look at it hard, before it’s paid 
away.” 

“ Pick up a bit, don’t you, you carmen ? ” 

“ An occasional twopence,” cried Erb, “ and 
think what a degrading thing it is for some of us 
to accept voluntary contributions from those placed 
in a more fortunate position in life ? ” 

“ Never knew a railway man object to it be- 
fore,” mused the Chief. 

“ You’re thinking of the old school, sir. Men 
are beginning to recognise that capital can’t do 
without them, and capital must therefore fork out 
accordingly. This memorial which you hold at the 
present time in your ’and, sir, contains a moderate 
appeal. If that moderate appeal is refused, I won’t 
be answerable for the consequences.” 

“ And yet, I take it, you know more about the 
consequences than anyone else ? ” 

“ Be that as it may, sir,” said Erb, flattered, 

“ we needn’t go into hypo — hypo ” 

“ Hypothetical? ” 

“ Thank you, sir. We needn’t go into that part 
of the question at present. But it’s only fair to 
warn you that when I go back to the men and tell 
them that their very reasonable applications have 
been one and all refused, and refused, if I may say 
so, with ignominy, then there’ll be such an out- 
break. Mind you, sir, I’m not blaming you; I 
only talk to you in this way, because ’ere’s me 
representing labour on this side of the table, and 


M ERB M 


4 * 


there's you on the other side of the table represent- 
ing capital.” 

“ Labour,” remarked the Chief, trying to make 
a tent of three pen holders, “is to be congratu- 
lated.” 

“ Therefore, not wishing to take up your time 
any longer, I should like to conclude by remarking 
in the language of one of our poets of old, who 
remarks ” 

“ No, no,” protested the Chief gently, “ don’t 
let us drag in the poets. They were all very well 
in their way, but really you know, not railway men. 
Not one of them. What I want you to tell the 
others is that if I had the power of deciding on this 
matter, likely enough I should give them everything 
they ask. But above me, Barnes, above me is the 
Superintendent, above the Superintendent is the 
General Manager, above the General Manager are 
the Directors, and above the Directors are the 
Shareholders.” 

“ And all of you a stamping down on poor us.” 

“ To a certain extent,” admitted the Chief, in 
his friendly way, “ but only to a certain extent. 
What they want, what I want, is that everything 
should go on smoothly.” 

“ To come to the point,” suggested Erb. “ I 
take it that you answer this application, sir, in the 
negative. I take it that I’m to go back to the men 
and say to them, 4 All my efforts on your behalf 
have been fruitless.' ” 

“ Your efforts?” 




42 


“ERB” 


“ My efforts/' said Erb proudly. 

“ You are mainly responsible then? ” 

“ I don’t deny it." 

“ I see," said the Chief, slowly pulling the feath- 
ers from a quill pen. “ My information was to that 
effect, but it is well to have it confirmed by you. 
Now look here, Barnes." He took up the sheet of 
blue foolscap, with a change of manner. “ The men 
ask for the removal of the van foreman. That sug- 
gestion will not be acted upon. If we were all to 
be allowed to choose our own masters we should 
be playing a nice topsy-turvy game. You under- 
stand ? " 

“ I’ve taken a note of it," remarked Erb darkly. 
He wrote something with a short pencil on the back 
of an envelope. “ Negative answer also, I s’pose, to 
the question of hours ? " 

“ Not so fast. In regard to the question of 
hours some concession will be made. They have 
increased of late without my knowledge. The men 
will take it in turns, in batches of three or four, 
to go off duty at six o’clock one week in the 
month. This will necessitate a couple of extra 
carmen." 

“ Good ! " approved Erb, making a fresh note. 
" We now approach the question of wages." 

“ The men who have been in the service for five 
years will receive an additional two shillings a 
week." 

“ That’s a fair offer." 

41 The men who have been with us for more than 


“ERB” 


43 


a year will, with one exception, receive an increase 
of one and six.” 

Erb wrote the figures on the back of the envel- 
ope. Already he was composing in his mind the 
elaborate sentences by which he would make the 
satisfactory announcement to his colleagues. A 
telephone bell in the corner of the office stung the 
ear; the Chief rose, and bidding Erb wait outside 
for a few minutes, went to answer it. Erb closed 
the door after him in order to avoid any suspicion 
of overhearing, and, big with the important news, 
could not resist the temptation to hurry through 
into the arch where the men in a group were wait- 
ing ; the van foreman sat on a high stool in the cor- 
ner, in an attitude that suggested contrition. 

“ Well, chaps,” said Payne, when Erb, in one 
long, ornate sentence had given the information, 
“ this is a little bit of all right. I think I’m speak- 
ing the general opinion when I say we’re very much 
indebted to Erb for all the trouble he’s took.” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” said the men cheerfully. 

“ I could see from the first,” remarked the eldest 
carman, “ that he meant to pull it off for us.” 

“ The occasion being special,” said Payne, 
bunching his short, red beard in one hand, “ I think 
we might all of us treat ourselves to a tonic.” 

“ Not me,” said Erb. “ I’ve got to get back just 
to say a few words to the gov’nor. But don’t let 
me stop you chaps from ’aving one.” 

“ You won’t ! ” remarked Payne with candour. 

The conversation at the telephone was still going 


44 


“ERB'* 


on when Erb returned to the Chief's office; some 
time having been occupied, apparently, with the 
usual preliminaries of one party begging the other 
to speak up, and the other urging on the first the 
advisability of seeking some remedy for increasing 
deafness. The Chief rang off presently, and came 
to the door and opened it. 

“ Sorry to keep you waiting, Barnes." 

“ Was there anything else you wanted to say, 
sir?" 

“ Only this. I told you there was one exception 
in this scheme of increases." 

“ Everitt is a bit too fond of the glass, sir, but 
p’raps a word of warning from you " 

“ Everitt drinks, but Everitt does his work quiet- 
ly, and he doesn’t disturb the other men. The one 
exception, Barnes, is yourself.” 

“ Me ? " exclaimed Erb. 

“ It’s like this," said the Chief, going on with 
the work of plucking a quill pen. “ You’re a rest- 
less organiser, and no doubt somewhere in the world 
there is a place for you. But not here, Barnes, not 
here ! Of course, we don’t want to sack you, but if 
you don’t mind looking out for another berth — 
No hurry, you know, next week will do — why " 

The Chief threw down the stark quill pen; in- 
timation that the conference was at an end. 

“ I’m not the first martyr that’s suffered in the 
cause of right and justice," said Erb, his face white, 
“ and I’m probably not the last. I take this as a dis- 
tinct encouragement, sir, to go on in the path that 


“ERB” 


45 


Fate has mapped out for me, ever striving, I trust, 
not so much to improve my own personal position, 
as to better ” 

“ Shut the door after you,” said the Chief, “ and 
close it quietly, there’s a good chap.” 


4 


CHAPTER III 


Turmoil of the mind that followed in the next 
few days was increased by the worry of a Society 
engagement. To the servants’ party in Eaton 
Square, Erb, having been formally invited, sent an- 
swer that he was busy with meetings of one sort 
and another, and begged, therefore, to be excused: 
this to his sister Louisa’s great content. Arrived 
another post card from Alice, saying that if this 
meant that he would not come unless Louisa were 
invited, then she supposed there was nothing to do 
but to ask them both ; she would send a few things 
down by Carter Paterson the day before the party, 
that Louisa might adorn herself with something like 
distinction, and do as little harm as possible to the 
repute of Alice. To this, after an enthusiastic dis- 
cussion, that was not a discussion, in that Louisa 
did all the talking, a reply was sent, stating that 
Louisa and himself would arrive by a series of 
’buses on the night mentioned, and that Louisa 
begged her sister would not deprive herself of arti- 
cles of attire, “ me having,” said Louisa’s note, 
“ ample.” The incident had its fortunate side, in- 
somuch that it absorbed the whole mind of the de- 
lighted young sister, and prevented her from giving 
much attention to the matter of Erb’s forced res- 
46 


“ERB” 


47 


ignation. Lady experts called every evening at the 
model dwellings to give advice in regard to costume, 
and, in the workshop, other white-faced girls 
pushed aside the relation of their love affairs in 
order to give their minds to this subject: Louisa’s 
current young man received stern orders not so much 
as dare show his face in Page’s Walk for a good 
fortnight. It was only on the evening of the party, 
when Louisa, gorgeously apparelled, sat in the liv- 
ing-room, ready a full hour before the time for 
starting, and Erb in his bedroom about to start on 
the work of changing from a parcels carman to a 
private gentleman, that the short girl found leisure 
and opportunity to review Erb’s affairs. 

“ And all the rest,” said Louisa severely in con- 
clusion, “ all the rest of these ’umbugs reaping the 
fruits of your labours, and you thrown out neck 
and crop. I can’t think how you come to be such 
a idiot. You don’t see me doing such silly things. 
What do you think your poor mother would say if 
she were ’ere ? ” 

“ You haven’t seen the evening paper, I s’pose? ” 
asked the voice of Erb, muffled by soap-suds. 

“ Evening paper,” echoed the short sister, frac- 
tiously. “ Is this a time for bothering about even- 
ing papers ? The question is what are you going to 
do next, Erb ? Been round to any of the other sta- 
tions ? ” A grunt from the bedroom intimated a 
negative answer. “ You’ll come to rack and ruin, 
Erb, that’s what you’ll come to if I don’t look after 
you.” 


48 


“ERB” 


“ Catch hold.” A bare arm held out from the 
bedroom doorway a pink evening paper. 

“ What d’you want me to read now ? I don’t 
want to go botherin’ my ’ead about murders when 
I’m full of this party.” 

“ Where my thumb is,” said Erb’s voice. A 
damp mark guided her attention, and she read it, 
her lips moving silently as she went through the 
paragraph, her head giving its uncontrollable 
shake. 

“ We understand that a Society of Railway Car- 
men has been formed, and that the first meeting will 
be held at the Druid’s Arms, Southwark, on Satur- 
day evening, at half-past nine o’clock, a late hour 
fixed in order to secure the attendance of the men. 
There are two candidates for the position of secre- 
tary — Messrs. Herbert Barnes and James Spans- 
wick. The former is losing his situation for taking 
part in a labour movement, and his case has excited 
a great deal of interest.” 

“ I say,” cried Louisa, in an awed voice, “ that’s 
never meant for you, Erb ? ” 

“ It ain’t meant for anyone else,” called Erb. 
“ Seen anything of my stud ? ” 

“ Where did you put it last? But, just fancy, in 
print too. And underneath is something about 
Royalty.” Louisa clicked her tongue amazedly. 
“ You never said anything about it, either.” 

“ No use talking too much. Why, here’s the 
collar stud in the shirt all the time. No use talk- 


“ERB” 


49 


in g too much beforehand. Besides, it isn’t what 
you may call definitely settled yet. Spanswick’s got 
very strong support, and he hates me as much as he 
likes beer. I said something rather caustic on one 
occasion about his grammar.” 

“ I shall snip this out,” said Louisa, as Erb ap- 
peared struggling into his coat, “ and I shall show 
it privately to everybody I come across in Eaton 
Square to-night.” 

“ I don’t know that that’s worth while,” he said 
doubtfully. 

“ It’ll let ’em see,” said Louisa, with decision, 
“ that they ain’t everybody. When you’ve done 
trimming your cuffs with the scissors ” 

No further word of disparagement came from 
the short girl as she trotted along proudly by the 
side of her brother to the junction where New Kent 
Road starts for Walworth and town. Indeed, out- 
side the tram she expressed some surprise at the 
fact that so many people were not acquainted with 
her brother; she consoled herself by the assurance 
that once Erb obtained a start the whole world 
would join her in an attitude of respect ; she also 
enjoyed, in anticipation, the reflected glory that 
would be hers in the workshop the following morn- 
ing. Being as outspoken in praise as in blame, it 
resulted, as they walked over Westminster Bridge 
and took an omnibus, that not only Louisa, but Erb 
himself, had attained a glowing state of content, 
and when they arrived eventually at the house in 
Eaton Square (lighted recklessly below and sparse- 


5 ° 


“ERB" 


ly illuminated above) they felt that the world might 
possibly contain their equals, but they were cer- 
tainly not prepared to look on anybody as a supe- 
rior. 

“ Jackson/’ said the buttoned boy who opened 
the door as they descended the area, “ this looks like 
your lot.” 

“ They call her Jackson,” whispered Louisa to 
her brother, interrupting his protest. “ Parlour- 
maid here is always called Jackson.” 

Alice came forward. A spray of wild flowers 
meandered from the waist of her pale blue dress 
to her neck; she took her brother’s hand up high 
in the air before shaking it. A few tightly-collared 
young men stood about the entrance to the cleared 
kitchen, encouraging white gloves to cover their 
hands ; they also had bunches of flowers in button- 
holes, and one of them wore an open dress waist- 
coat. A Japanese screen masked the big range; 
nails in the walls had been relieved of their duties, 
a white cloth’d table with refreshments stood at the 
end near a pianoforte. 

“ You’re early,” said Alice, kissing her sister 
casually. Louisa took the brown paper parcel from 
Erb’s arm. 

“ Thought you’d like the evening to start well,” 
she said. “ Any gentlemen coming? ” 

“ Haven’t you got eyes ? ” asked Alice, leading 
the way upstairs and waving a hand in the direction 
of the shy youths. 

“ Gentlemen, / said,” remarked Louisa. 


“ERB” 


5i 


“ I shall begin to wish I hadn’t asked you,” said 
Alice pettishly, “ if you’re going on like that all the 
evening. I believe you only do it to annoy me.” 

“ What else could I do it for ? ” asked the short 
sister. 

“ Erb,” ordered the tall sister from the stairs, 
“ you leave your hat and coat in that room. Thank 
goodness I’ve got a brother who knows how to 
behave. Good mind now not to tittivate your hair 
for you.” 

“ You mustn’t mind me,” said Louisa, relenting 
at this threat. “ It’s only me manner.” 

They were received on returning downstairs by 
the housekeeper, a large important lady in black silk 
and with so many chains that she might have been 
a contented inmate of some amazingly gorgeous and 
generous prison; the housekeeper having been in- 
formed that Erb was an official on a South of Eng- 
land railway begged him to explain why, in travel- 
ling through Ireland during the winter, it was so 
difficult to obtain foot-warmers, and seemed not al- 
together satisfied with the reply that it was prob- 
ably because the Irish railways did not keep them 
in sufficient quantities. The cook, also stout but 
short, engaged Erb for the first two dances, assur- 
ing him (this proved indeed to be a fact) that she 
was, in spite of appearances, very light on her toes, 
and quoting a compliment that had been paid to her 
by a perfect stranger, and therefore unbiassed, at 
Holborn Town Hall in the early eighties. 

“ And this, Erb, is Jessie,” said Alice, introduc- 


52 


“ERB” 


ing a large-eyed young woman in pale green. 
“ Jessie is my very great friend.” She added, “ Just 
at present.” 

“ I think you speak, Mr. Barnes ? ” said the 
large-eyed young woman earnestly. 

“ I open my mouth now and again,” admitted 
Erb, “ just for the sake of exercising my face.” 

“ Ah ! ” she sighed, looking at him in a rapt, 
absorbed way. “ Somehow you put it all in a nut- 
shell. I should simply love to be able to say the 
true, the right, the inevitable thing. I could almost 
— perhaps, I ought not to say it — but I could almost 
worship a clever man.” 

Erb, reddening, said that there were precious 
few of them about. 

“Talk to me, please!” she said appealingly. 
“ Button this glove of mine, and then tell me all 
about yourself. I shall be frightfully interested.” 

“ You don’t want to hear about me,” said Erb, 
essaying the task set him. 

“ If you only knew ! ” she said. 

This was really very gratifying. Erb had won- 
dered whether the evening would interfere for a 
time with consideration of his great crisis : he soon 
found that the evening was to put that subject en- 
tirely out of his thoughts. This was in itself a re- 
lief, for, despite confidence in himself, he felt nerv- 
ous about the result of the forthcoming meeting; 
to-night he could dismiss worry and give his mind 
a holiday. He found that Jessie’s surname was 
Luker, and the house called her Masters ; the tall 


“ERB M 


53 


young woman declared that she positively hated the 
name of Luker, and confessed to a special admira- 
tion for the name of Barnes, strongly contesting 
Erb’s suggestion that Barnes was a second-class 
sort of name, and worthy of but little esteem. Near 
the cottage pianoforte that had been fixed in the 
corner of the kitchen, a sombre young person in 
black sat on a chair that had to be improved and 
made suitable by an enormous dictionary, fetched 
by the pageboy from upstairs, and, receiving orders 
to play just what she liked for the first, this lady 
struck violently into the prelude of a waltz, choos- 
ing a square in the pattern of the wall-paper before 
her at which she could yawn. Couples, standing 
up, waited impatiently for the real waltz to com- 
mence ; young women moving a smartly-slippered 
foot; Louisa formulating her first protest against 
convention by saying aloud to her partner, a pre- 
cise footman, “ Oh, let me and you make a start ! ” 
The others said, “ S-s-s-h ! ” and watched the butler. 
The butler gave a pull at his yellow waistcoat and 
advanced solemnly to the housekeeper. 

“ Mrs. Margetson,” he said, “ I’m not so handy 
on me feet as I used to be, but I trust I may have 
the honour of opening the dance with you ? ” 

“ Mr. Rackham,” replied the housekeeper with 
a slight bow, “ thank you very much for asking, 
but, as you know, the leastest excitement makes 
my head a torture. Would you mind,” with a wave 
of the fan, “ asking Mamselle to take my place?” 

“ I shall have much plaisure,” said the French 


54 


“ER B * * 


lady’s maid, promptly. “ A deux temps err a trois 
temps , Meestair R-rackham ? ” 

“ Leave it to you, Mamselle,” replied the butler. 

The two went half way round the kitchen before 
the other couples ventured to move : a nod from 
the housekeeper then gave permission. Erb found 
himself rather unfortunate at first, and this was his 
own fault, for, with his usual manner of taking 
charge, he endeavoured to pilot the agreeable Miss 
Luker and ran her into rocks and whirlpools and on 
to the quicksands of ladies’ trains ; it was only after 
the fourth disaster, when the fiance of the upper- 
housemaid (who was one of the tightly-collared men 
and wore his short hair brushed forward in the man- 
ner of grooms) said to him audibly, “ Not accus- 
tomed to drive, apparently ! ” that he permitted Miss 
Luker to take up the duty of guidance, and thereafter 
they went in and out the swinging dancers with no 
accident. Miss Luker was quite a marvellous young 
woman, for she could dance and talk calmly at the 
same time, a trick so impossible to Erb that, when 
he attempted it, he found he could only stammer 
acquiescence to some contestable theory advanced 
by his partner, or ejaculate some words in accept- 
ance of an undeserved compliment. 

“ It seems like fate,” sighed Miss Luker, as she 
saved Erb from sweeping the pianiste from her 
dictionary and chair, “ but do you know you have 
exactly my step? It seems like fate,” repeated Miss 
Luker, as the music stopped and couples began to 
walk around the room, “ and it is fate.” 


“ERB” 


55 


“ I don't quite follow you/’ said Erb, trying to 
regain his breath and dodging the long train of 
Mamselle. “ To my mind, most things depend on 
us, and if we want anything to happen we can gen- 
erally make it happen. Otherwise, where would 
ambition, and energy, and what not come in ? ” 

“ You mustn’t talk above my head," said Miss 
Luker, winningly. “ You forget how stupid we 
poor women are." An accidental lull came in the 
clatter of conversation. 

“ You’re an exception," declared Erb. 

His sister looked over their shoulders at him 
with surprise, and the footman giggled. The others, 
with an elaborate show of tact, began to speak hur- 
riedly on the first subject that occurred to them, 
and the lady at the pianoforte, checked half way 
through a yawn, was ordered by the housekeeper 
to play a set of Lancers. Erb, in his life, had many 
trying moments, but none seemed so acute as this, 
when he had been caught paying a compliment to 
a lady. It was the first time he had ever done it, 
and when his self-control returned, and, taking sides, 
he and cook went through the devious ways of the 
set dance, he warned himself to use more care in 
future. Nevertheless, some excuse could be urged : 
whenever he glanced at Miss Luker, now with the 
gloomy young man for partner, he found that her 
large eyes were looking at him, and she turned 
away quickly with great show of confusion. When 
the Lancers had, by gracious permission of the 
housekeeper, repeated its last figure, cook, beck- 


“ERB” 


56 

oned aside by the footman, introduced her partner 
with due formality. Mr. Danks — the footman 
bowed. 

“ We — er — know each other by reputation, Mr. 
Barnes.” 

“ Very kind of you to say so,” said Erb. 

“ When you feel inclined for a cigarette,” said 
the footman, “ give me the tip. What I mean to 
say is — tip me the wink ! They won’t let us smoke 
here, but we can go into the pantry, or we can take 
a whiff round the square if you prefer it.” Here 
the footman giggled, “ I often wonder whether 
‘ round the square ’ is a correct expression. Find 
any trouble, may I ask, in choosin’ your language ? ” 

“ It comes to me pretty free,” said Erb, “ if I’m 
at all ’eated.” 

“ Heated,” corrected Mr. Danks, “ heated ! Be- 
fore I went to my uncle’s in Southampton Street, 
Camberwell, to take lessons, I used to drop ’em 
like — like anything.” 

“ Never trouble about trifles meself.” 

“ For public men like me and you,” said Mr. 
Danks. He stopped a giggle, perceiving that what 
he had thought to be a humorous remark did not, 
judging from Erb’s expression, really bear that char- 
acter. “ Like me and you,” he went on, “ the letter 
aitch is one of the toughest difficulties that we have 
to encounter. In my profession, at one time, it was 
looked on, to use your words, as a trifle. Those 
times, Mr. Barnes, are gone and done with. The 
ability to aspirate the letter aitch in the right place 


“ERB” 


57 


— in the right place, mind you — has done more to 
break down the barriers that separated class from 
class than any other mortal thing in this blessed 
world. ,, 

“ I wonder, now/’ said Erb, with some interest, 
“ whether you’re talking rot, or whether there’s 
something in what you say ? ” 

“ If you think anything more of it,” said Mr. 
Danks, feeling in his waistcoat pocket, “ take my 
uncle’s card, and go on and chat it over with 
him.” 

“ ‘ Professor of Elocution. Declamation 
Taught ! ’ ” read Erb. 

“ His daughter knows you ; heard you speak in 
Southwark Park.” 

“ Not a lame girl ? ” 

“ If I hadn’t gone to him,” said Mr. Danks nod- 
ding affirmatively, “ I should never have known 
how to recite.” 

“ Nice drawback that would have been. So her 
name’s Danks ? ” 

“ Rosalind Danks.” 

“ Rosalind,” repeated Erb thoughtfully. 

“ As it is,” said the other with a giggle of satis- 
faction, “ my 4 King Robert of Sicily ’ gets me more 
invites out than I know what to do with. I sup- 
pose your sister has told you all about it.” 

“ Talks of nothing else,” declared Erb invent- 
ively. 

To his surprise, Mr. Danks shook him very 
warmly by the hand, giggling the while with satis- 


“ERB M 


58 

faction, and, with the remark that he must now do 
the amiable to the remaining member of the family, 
left Erb and went across to Louisa — Louisa, flushed 
and almost attractive looking from the excitement 
of dancing. Erb calculated the distance between 
himself and the fair Miss Luker, and, with an at- 
tempt to imitate the easy manner of Mr. Danks, 
lounged across in her direction, but before he 
reached her three of the young men had formed up 
defensively, and Erb had to lean clumsily against 
the wall near to his short sister and her new com- 
panion. Mr. Danks had placed a footstool for 
Louisa. 

“ You are rather short,” explained the excel- 
lently mannered footman. 

“ I stopped growin’ a purpose,” said Louisa, 
kicking the footstool aside. 

“ You don’t resemble your sister at all.” 

“ Mustn’t let her hear you say that,” remarked 
Louisa, “ else she’ll be mad.” 

“ It’s been a very dull season in town,” said 
Mr. Danks regretfully. 

“ Have you been away, then ? ” 

“ I suppose you get a good many engagements, 
Miss Barnes? What I mean to say is, don’t you 
find it a great tax? The demands of society seem 
to increase year by year.” 

“ It’s some’ing awful,” agreed Louisa. “ I shall 
be out again — let me see ” 

“ To-morrow night ? ” 

“ In about six weeks’ time, to a cantata at Maze 


“ERB” 


59 


Pond Chapel. Scarcely gives you time to breathe, 
does it ? ” 

Alice perceived that her brother was growing 
moody in his solitude, and brought up to him the 
French lady’s maid, who, discovering that he had 
once spent a day at Boulogne — conveyed to and fro 
by a free pass — talked to him vivaciously on the 
superiority of her native country over all others. 
The young woman at the pianoforte, aroused from 
a brief nap, was ordered to play a schottische. 

At this point the evening suffered a check. It 
was Cook’s fault. Cook, fearing that the hours were 
not moving with enough rapidity, suggested games ; 
suggested also one called the Stool of Repentance. 
Necessary for one person to leave the room, and 
Mr. Danks being selected for this honour, went out, 
and the others thereupon selected libellous state- 
ments, of which Erb took charge. 

“ Come in, King Robert of Sicily,” called Erb. 
Mr. Danks entered, and was ordered by Cook (hug- 
ging herself with enjoyment) to take a chair in the 
centre of the kitchen. “ Someone says you’re con- 
ceited.” 

“ That’s you,” said Mr. Danks pointing to 
Alice. 

“ Wrong ! ” remarked Erb. “ Someone says all 
the gels laugh at you.” 

“ That’s you,” decided Mr. Danks, pointing at 
Cook. Cook now convulsed with amusement. 

“Wrong again! Someone says you can’t re- 
cite for nuts.” 


Go 


“ERB” 


“ I say,” urged Mr. Danks, wriggling on the 
chair, “ I’m as fond of a joke as anyone, but real- 
ly — That sounds like you, miss.” Louisa shook 
her head negatively. 

“ You’re not lucky, old man. Someone says 
you’ll never get married in all your life for the sim- 
ple reason that no one wants you.” 

“ That’s you this time, at any rate,” cried Mr. 
Danks, with melancholy triumph. And, as Louisa 
it was, the short young woman had to go out. 

“ Come in ! ” cried Erb, when the accusations 
had been decided upon. “ Some of ’em have been 
making it warm for you, Louiser.” 

“ I’ll make it hot for them, Erb.” 

“ Someone says you’d be a fine looking gel if 
you were twice as broad and three times as long.” 

“ Cook ! ” exclaimed Louisa. 

Cook, slightly disappointed at this swift identifi- 
cation, made her way out with a large sigh of regret 
at enforced exercise. It was determined now to 
show more ingenuity, and Cook had to knock two 
or three times ere permission could be given for her 
return. 

“ Someone says,” remarked Erb, “ that you’re 
the finest woman in Eaton Square, bar none.” 

Cook laughed coquettishly. “ That sounds like 
you, Mr. Barnes.” 

“ No fear,” said Erb. “ Someone says that you’ll 
get engaged some day ” 

“ What nonsense ! ” interrupted Cook delight- 
edly. 


“ERB” 


6 i 

“ If you only wear a thick veil over your 
face.” 

“ Look here ! ” said Cook definitely. “ That’s 
enough of it. If I find out who said that I shall 
make no bones about it, but I shall go straight up- 
stairs and complain to Lady Frances, so there 
now.” 

“ Someone says,” Erb went on, “ that you’ve 
got such an uncommon size mouth that it would 
take three men and a boy to kiss you.” 

“ I don’t want to lose me temper,” said Cook 
heatedly, and speaking with no stops, “ and I’m not 
going to but once I know who dared say that and 
I’ll go to the County Court first thing to-morrow 
morning and take out a summons against them 
people shan’t go saying just what they like about 
me behind me back without having to prove every 
single — No, no, I’m not getting cross nothing of 
the kind but once I know who so much as dared — 
It’s a silly stupid game and I can’t think why it 
was ever suggested.” 

They were going back to dancing after this un- 
successful essay, when a quiet tap came at the door 
of the kitchen ; and the couples, standing up to be- 
gin, suddenly released each other, the French lady’s 
maid crying humorously, “ Ciel ! c’est mon mari ! ” 
Conversation ceased, and Cook bustled forward and 
opened the door. 

“ May I come in, Cook, I wonder?” 

“ Why,” cried Cook, hysterical with delight, “ as 
though you need ask, my dear, I mean, m’iady ! ” 

5 


62 


“ERB” 


It seemed to Erb that the West End possessed 
some exceptional forcing properties that made all 
of its young women grow tall. He stood upright, 
as though on parade, unconsciously following the 
lead given by the tightly collared men and by Mr. 
Danks. As the very tall young woman went across 
the silent room to the housekeeper his gaze fol- 
lowed her; he would have given half his savings 
to have been permitted to assume a light, uncon- 
cerned, and, if possible, a defiant manner. 

“ Do you know,” she said brightly, “ that I 
have not been down here since I was ten years 
old?” 

“ That’s twelve years ago, Lady Frances,” said 
the housekeeper. The housekeeper adjusted a bow 
at the white shoulders of the new arrival with an air 
of privilege. 

“ You sometimes used to let me bake things, 
didn’t you, Cook ? ” 

“ I had to take care you didn’t eat ’em,” said 
Cook, admiring her from the opposite side of the 
room. The strain on severe countenances around 
the kitchen relaxed slightly. “ The others,” added 
Cook proudly, “ don’t remember. It was before 
their time, Lady Frances.” 

“ And now that I am here,” said Lady Frances, 
“ it seems that I am to spoil your party.” The 
servants and their visitors murmured, “ Oh, no ! ” 
in an unconvincing way. 

“ What I thought was,” shfe went on brightly, 
“ that I might play to you.” 


“ERB” 63 

“We have taken the liberty,” said the house- 
keeper, “ of hiring a musical person.” 

“ But you will be glad of a rest,” said Lady Fran- 
ces, touching the pianiste on the hand and stopping 
her in a yawn. “ When I was at school at Chelten- 
ham I used to be rather good at dance music.” 
She turned suddenly and looked down at Louisa. 
“ Perhaps you play ? ” 

“ Me ? ” echoed Louisa confusedly. Louisa's 
sister Alice lifted her eyes in silent appeal to the 
fates. “ I draw the line at a mouth organ.” Her 
sister frowned at the ceiling. “ And even that I’m 
out of practice with.” Louisa found her handker- 
chief in a back pocket, and with some idea of hiding 
her confusion, rubbed her little nose vigorously. 

“ I think you have dropped this,” said Lady 
Frances, stooping. 

“ Oh, that’s only a bit out of this evening’s news- 
paper. About my brother,” added the girl. 

“ Really ! May I read it, I wonder.” 

“ Spell the words you can’t pronounce,” said 
Louisa. The room waited ; Erb shifted his feet and 
endeavoured to look unconcerned. 

“ Are you — Are you Miss Spanswick, then ? ” 
pleasantly and encouragingly. 

“ Am I Miss Spanswick ? ” echoed Louisa with 
despair in her voice. “ Give it ’old ! This is my 
brother’s name — Herbert Barnes — and, consequent- 
ly, my name is Barnes. Not Spanswick.” 

“ I see ! tell me what can I play ? ” 

“ Play something you know,” advised Louisa. 


6 4 


“ERB” 


“ Rackham ! please suggest something. ,, 

“ If it wasn’t troubling your ladyship,” said 
Mr. Rackham, taking off the dictionary, “ and 
putting you to a great amount of ill-convenience, 
I should venture to suggest — hem! — a set of qua- 
drilles.” 

Something in the playing, once the couples had 
persuaded themselves to make up sets and to dance 
to such an august musician, that had escaped the 
art of the hired pianiste. An emphasis at the right 
place; a marvellous ability for bringing the music 
of each figure to an end just as the dancing ceased, 
so that there was no longer necessity for clapping 
of hands to intimate that further melody was use- 
less, or to go on dancing with no music at all. For 
the next, Lady Frances played a well-marked air 
for a new dance that had possessed town, and in this 
Miss Luker gave up her partner and undertook to 
teach Erb, who was not fully informed on the sub- 
ject. It occurred to Erb, as he tried to lift his foot 
at the appointed moment, and prepared immediately 
afterwards to swing the agreeable upper housemaid 
round by the waist, that although his partner had 
modelled her style on that of the young woman 
seated at the pianoforte, there existed between them 
a long interval. Both had the same interested way 
of speaking, the same attention in listening, but, 
with Miss Luker, there seemed to be nothing at 
the back of the eyes. Erb, finding himself possessed 
with a hope that Lady Frances might presently 
speak to him, tried to compensate for this weakness 


“ERB” 


65 


by telling Miss Luker, when they were lifting one 
foot and swinging round at the far end of the kitch- 
en, that the title meant nothing to him, and that, 
for his part, he preferred to mix with everybody 
on a common platform, to which Miss Luker re- 
plied, “ Ah ! that’s because you’re a railway man.” 
Presently, in one of those sudden blanks of general 
talk that surprise the unwary, his raised voice was 
heard to say, — 

“ — Consequence is that the few revel in luxury, 
while the many — ” He hesitated, and went on 
floundering through the silence. “ Whilst the many 
’ave not the wherewithal to buy their daily bread.” 

The awkward silence continued, broken only by 
the music from the pianoforte and the swishing of 
skirts. 

“ Erb,” said his sister Alice, frowning over Mr. 
Danks’s shoulder, “ remember where you are.” 

“ Exercise tack, my dear sir,” recommended the 
butler. “ Exercise tack.” 

“ Even visitors,” remarked the housekeeper se- 
verely, so that the young woman at the pianoforte 
should hear, “ even visitors ought to draw the line 
somewhere. We can’t help our opinions, but we 
can all stop ourselves from expressing them.” 

The music stopped, and the household looked 
rather nervously towards the chair, with an en- 
deavour to ascertain whether the occupant had over- 
heard the discordant remarks. To their relief, she 
leaned engagingly back, and beckoned to Louisa. 
Louisa, her head twitching with pride and agitation, 


66 


“ERB” 


went across the floor, and stood swinging her pro- 
gramme round and round. 

“ You can play ! ” admitted Louisa. “ Where 
did you pick it up ? ” 

“ I want you to bring your brother over to me,” 
said Lady Frances. 

Quite useless for the kitchen to pretend that it 
was giving its entire mind to the subject of refresh- 
ments. The situation demanded their eyes and ears ; 
they ate oblong pieces of cake in a detached way, 
rather as though they were feeding someone else ; 
the housekeeper looked at Alice, and shook her 
her head desolately. 

“ I have been reading about you,” said Lady 
Frances in her alert, interested way. 

“ Licker to me how these things get into the 
papers,” he mumbled. 

“ I should be tremendously interested in life,” 
said the girl, “ if I occupied your position. There’s 
something sporting about it.” She looked at him 
intently, and he rubbed his nose under a vague im- 
pression that it bore some defect. “ I wish you the 
best of good luck.” 

“ Then I shall have it,” said Erb. Alice looked 
round the room triumphantly, as who should say, 
Now we are scoring. “ Not acquainted much with 
the working-classes, p’raps, me lady ? ” 

“ To my regret, no ! ” 

“ They’re made up of all sorts,” went on Erb, 
wishing that he dared to look at her white shoulders 
as she looked at his face, “and for the most part 


“ERB” 


67 


they are very easily led. It’s only now and again 
that you find one step out of the common ruck.” 
He hesitated, seeing no way out of the sentence 
except by a self-congratulatory exit. 

“ If I should ever want to see through Bermond- 
sey, ^ she said, clasping her knee, her head up at- 
tractively, “ will you be my guide ? ” 

“ It would be a proud moment,” said Erb. He 
added, hastily, “ For me, I mean.” 

“ Cook, shall I play one more, and then go 
back upstairs and leave off bothering you ? ” 

“ The idea,” said Cook reproachfully ; “ the idea, 
m’lady, of calling it botherin’ us.” 

The others murmured polite sympathy with 
Cook’s view, but when Lady Frances had played 
the four figures in a manner that seemed to Erb 
quite without flaw, she said good-night, giving a 
special word to Louisa that made the short girl 
redden with delight; coming back to the doorway 
after Cook had seen her out to say to Erb : 

“ Won’t forget your promise, will you ? ” 

The dance finished at half-past eleven, and the 
yawning pianiste went off to another engagement 
in Eccleston Street that began at midnight and was 
to last until the hour of four. The servants came 
up the steps of the area to see their visitors go, 
Alice now so proud of her brother that she declined 
to acknowledge the compliments of Mr. Danks, ig- 
noring that gentleman’s fervent assurance that she 
had been, as he expressed it, the belle of the even- 
ing. 


68 


“ERB” 


“ Good-bye, Mr. Barnes/’ said Miss Luker fer- 
vently. She walked on a few steps with him. 
“ This evening will always, always remain in my 
mind as a precious memory.” 

“ I shan’t forget it in a hurry.” 

“ Oh, thank you for those words,” whispered 
Miss Luker. 

“ Don’t mention it.” 

“ But promise. You won’t think harshly of me, 
will you ? ” 

“ As a matter of fact, I don’t suppose I shall 
’ave time to think of you at all, ’arshly or other- 
wise. To-morrow night there’s an important meet- 
ing on, and ” 

“ But if you should want to write to me,” went 
on Miss Luker, undeterred and looking back at the 
gossiping bunch of visitors near the area entrance, 
“ let me know and I’ll send you some addressed 
envelopes. We live in a censorious world, Mr. 
Barnes, and — Here comes your young sister. 
Think of me at four o’clock every afternoon, and 
I’ll promise to think of you.” 

“Well, but,” protested Erb, “what’s the use?” 

“ Bah ! ” said Miss Luker, with a sudden burst 
of undisguised contempt, “ I wouldn’t be a dunder- 
headed man for anything.” 


CHAPTER IV 


The third round of deliveries was finished, 
and, arrived at his last evening, Erb, coat and col- 
lar off, washed away the traces of work in the stable 
pail with the aid of some aggressive soft soap that 
seemed to have its own way in everything. He 
had brought with him that morning a parcel of pri- 
vate clothes, and just before going out with the six 
o’clock turn, he had changed, and had handed in 
the corduroy uniform. A relief to feel that he no 
longer wore the brass buttons of servitude; of late 
they had seemed to reproach him. He had driven 
round the Surrey side with the air of a sporting 
gentleman taking out his own horse and trap ; the 
private clothes helped him to say his good-byes with 
dignity to all, and especially to his old enemy, the 
van foreman. 

“ You would go on in your own tin-pot way,” 
said the van foreman regretfully, “ no matter what 
I said. Your case ought to act as a warnin’.” 

“ To you T” 

“ I should ’ave thought,” said the van foreman, 
with a wistful air, “after all that’s passed be- 
tween us we might as well part good friends, at 
any rate.” 

“ Look here, old chap,” said Erb good-tempered- 

69 


70 


“ERB M 


ly, “ I tried to out you , and you tried to out me ; 
and you’ve got the best of it. I don’t complain, but 
I’m not going to pretend I’m on friendly terms 
with a man when I ain’t.” 

'* That’s what I say,” retorted the van foreman 
argumentatively. “ You’ve got no discretion.” 

The manners of William Henry had about them 
a fine blend of condescension; the lad came for- 
ward from the tail of the van and sat on a ham- 
per, big with news. He had been approached 
that afternoon and informed that, consequent on 
the departure of Erb, there would be some changes, 
and would he, William Henry, accept the position 
of junior porter at fourteen shillings a week. 

“ I shall probably work on from that,” said Wil- 
liam Henry, “ to some even higher position, and 
then on again. See? And if ever you want a 
friend, Erb ” 

“ I don’t let boys call me Erb. Mr. Barnes, if 
you please.” 

“ If I’m a boy,” said William Henry thought- 
fully, “ I don’t quite see where you’re going to find 
your men. As I was a sayin’, if ever you should 
be down in the gutter — and, mind you, there’s un- 
likelier things than that — you come to me. It may 
be in my power to ’elp you. And I tell you what 
you can do for me in exchange. You might take 
the van ’ome to the stables by yourself, so that I can 
run round to Rotherhithe New Road and tell my 
young lady.” 

“ Your young lady ! ” 


“ERB” 


7i 


“And why not?” demanded William Henry 
with some indignation. “We ain’t all like you.” 

It gratified Erb, as he parted his hair with an 
imperfect pocket comb, and tried to make the ob- 
stinate wisp at the back of his head remain flat, to 
think that he had the reputation of one who exhib- 
ited no sort of weakness in regard to women ; this 
came in well with his profound attitude towards the 
world. He had had a letter from the tall upper 
housemaid at Eaton Square, to which he had sent 
no reply ; indeed, the communication scarcely de- 
manded an answer, for it furnished only informa- 
tion in regard to the weather, and a fervent hope 
that his health had not been impaired by his pres- 
ence at the dance; it would not have remained in 
his memory but for one sentence, “ Her young lady- 
ship has spoken of you once or twice.” An incom- 
plete way of conveying a fact : something, of course, 
to know that she had referred to him, but it would 
have been more interesting to know the precise 
terms. He flushed at the appalling thought that she 
might have made some humorous comment on his 
behaviour. 

Men balanced themselves on the edge of the 
kerb outside the “ Druid’s Arms,” and whilst a 
swollen-faced cornet blared patriotic tunes at them 
from the opposite side in a ferocious way that per- 
mitted of no argument, some of the youngest tried 
to do a few steps of a dance. Two butchers, affect- 
ing to be rivals, chaffed each other derisively in 
raucous voices, one demanding to know how the 


72 


“ERB” 


widow was, and, on the second man replying incau- 
tiously, “ What widder ? ” the first explained that he 
referred to the widow of the man who bought a 
joint at the second man’s shop last Saturday week. 
A hoarse-voiced man sold cough tablets for the 
voice; a mild, sightless old man, with bootlaces, 
had an eager little girl with him, who cried shrilly 
and commandingly and unceasingly, “ Petronise the 

belind, petronise the belind, petronise the ” 

Boys and girls thrust bunches of flowers against 
the noses of passers by; a depressed woman cried, 
“ Twenty-four comic papers for a punny,” with a 
catch in her voice that expressed regret at the small 
demand for humour. Erb nodded to the uniformed 
men whom he recognised, and, going into the bar, 
found his competitor Spanswick. Always a short, 
stout man, Spanswick to-night had every sign of his 
insufficient neck covered with white collar ; Erb was 
pleased to see that Spanswick’s tie had rucked up at 
the back. 

Spanswick stopped suddenly in the remarks he 
was making to an interested group who stood lean- 
ing over him in the manner of palm trees, and, com- 
ing away, shook hands publicly and elaborately with 
Erb, as men in the boxing ring salute their oppo- 
nents. 

“ Feeling fit? ” 

“ Never better,” said Erb. “ How’s yourself? ” 

“ Bit of a cold,” said Spanswick with important 
reserve ; “ but otherwise ” 

If there is time, one would like to explain here 


“ERB” 


73 


Spanswick’s position amongst the men. It was of 
that assured kind that newcomers do not dare to 
question, and contemporaries have agreed to re- 
spect. If this ever exhibited signs of waning, 
Spanswick would gather an audience together and 
beat the bounds of the incident that had made him 
a man to be treated with consideration, and the 
story had been re-told so many times, and so many 
improvements and additions had been made to it, 
that for the sake of true history the real facts may 
as well be set down. 

Spanswick had given way to drink. To say this 
meant much, for at the time the limits set upon the 
consumption of beer by many of the carmen was 
only that fixed by their own capabilities. Spans- 
wick’s case must have been exceptional, and, indeed, 
he was so inclined, not so much to the bottle, per- 
haps, as to the quart, that his appearance on the 
morning following these carousals was truly de- 
plorable: his strong-minded wife taking these op- 
portunities to damage his face, with the eventual 
result that his van boy and his horse sneered at 
him openly. Wherefore Payne and a man named 
Kirby and another called Old Jim, decided, in the 
best interests of mankind at large, and of Spanswick 
in particular, that some steps should be taken, that 
it was for them to take these steps, and that the 
following Friday evening (being pay day) was the 
time to be selected. Payne’s idea was this. They 
would run Spanswick to earth in one of his resorts, 
they would form a ring (or . as much of a ring as 


74 


“ERB" 


three could make) around him, and by wise counsel 
and urgent illustration force upon him a recogni- 
tion of the downward career that was his, and its 
inevitable end. It took some time to arrive at this 
decision, because Old Jim, who was not abreast of 
the times and of modern methods, had a remedy 
that included the dropping of the patient in the 
canal ; whilst Kirby had another proposal. “ Let us 
set the teetotal chaps on him,” urged Kirby. 
Payne’s scheme was adopted, and, the Friday night 
arriving, the three, after they had finished work, 
had a shave and a wash, and put on their best 
clothes (Payne himself wore a silk hat of adequate 
age, but of insufficient size), and they set out sol- 
emnly to take up their self-appointed duties. 

“ Now,” said Old Jim, “ the likeliest place is 
4 The World Turned Upside Down.’ ” 

“ Pardon me,” said Kirby, with the politeness 
that comes with the wearing of Sunday clothes, 
“ pardon me, but ‘ The Chequers ’ is his ’ouse.” 

“ I thought,” remarked Payne, “ the ‘ Dun Cow ’ 
was.” 

“ I’m prutty sure I’m right,” said Old Jim. 

“ I’m jolly well certain you’re both wrong,” de- 
clared Kirby with emphasis. 

“ Standing here all night arguin’,” decided 
Payne, “ won’t settle the matter. Let’s make a start 
at one of them.” 

Spanswick was not in “ The World Turned Up- 
side Down,” but the three had a drink there, be- 
cause it would be notoriously a gross breach of eti- 


“ERB” 


75 


quette to go from a public-house without ordering 
refreshment ; to do this were to deride the landlord 
openly, and insinuate libels on his stock. At the 
next place the three went into each bar to make 
sure, and, having money in their pockets, it seemed 
like doing the thing well and completely to have 
a drink here in every bar, still discussing the pain- 
ful case of poor old Spanny, regretting deeply the 
curse that liquor brought upon men who could not 
use it with discretion. 

“ It’s good servant,” said Old Jim, raising his 
glass and shutting one eye in order to see it clearly, 
“ but bad mas’er. That’s what I always says about 
it. It’s a good mas’r, but — What I mean to 
say is it’s a bad servant ” 

“ Every man,” declared Kirby, attempting to 
slap the counter, but missing it, “ ought to know 
where to draw line.” 

“ The chap who don’t,” agreed Payne, “ (You*re 
upsetting your glass, Jim, old man) — the chap who 
don’t is like the beas’s of field.” 

“ Worse! ” said Old Jim. 

“ No, not worse ! ” urged Payne obstinately. 

“ Fight you for it, J ’ offered Old Jim. 

Kirby interfered and made peace, and through- 
out the evening, wherever they went in search of 
Spanswick, it happened that some two of the three 
were always quarrelling, whilst the third endeav- 
oured to appease and conciliate. They were on the 
very edge of a triangular dispute in the last house 
of call when Payne, sobering himself for a moment, 


76 


“ERB” 


pointed out to the others that it was closing time, 
and they must not go to bed without feeling that 
something accomplished, something done, had 
earned a night’s repose ; necessary that they should 
proceed now with as much directness as possible 
to Spans wick’s house, and (if they found him) 
there deliver the calculated words of warning, the 
prepared sentences of advice. 

“ ’Ullo, old man,” said Payne, as the door of 
Spanswick’s house opened. “ Many ’appy returns 
day.” 

“ What’s all this ? ” demanded Spanswick cold- 
ly. “ Brought anything with you in a bottle ? ” 

“ We’ve brought good ’dvice,” said Old Jim, 
seating himself on the sill. “ How is it we didn’t 
see you at any of the places ? ” 

“ The wife locked up me boots,” replied Spans- 
wick surlily. “ That’s why. But surely one of 
you’s got a bottle about him somewheres. Search ! ” 
“ We want you, old chap,” said Payne, steady- 
ing himself with a hand on either side of the door- 
way, “ to give up the drink. 4 Oh that man should 
put an en’my into his mouth to steal out his brains.’ 
Chuck it, my friend, chuck it, before it is too late. 
Shun the flowing bowl, and save your money to 
buy harmonium with.” 

“ I’ll harmonium you,” said Spanswick threat- 
eningly, “ if you don’t all three of you make your- 
selves precious scarce. How dare you come round 
here in this disgraceful condition to annoy a sober, 
honest man ? Go to your ’omes and take an exam- 


pie by me. I never saw such a painful exhibition in 
all me life.” 

“ How was we to know you’d be sober ? ” asked 
Kirby, swaying. 

Spanswick emphasised the situation by remain- 
ing comparatively sober for a week ; a busy week in 
other ways, for he lost no opportunity of reciting 
the incident of his own pure and heroic action, 
establishing thus a concrete foundation for the 
building up of a character that had never entirely 
disappeared. 

(This is the story of carman Spanswick.) 

One or two men standing at the zinc bar called 
on Erb to have a drink, but Erb replied, “ After- 
wards,” and went up the wooden staircase to the 
club room. There, on the landing, men were con- 
sulting in undertones, which they changed for 
much louder speech on seeing Erb, commencing to 
talk noisily of contests with superiors whom they 
had, it appeared, worsted in argument; of fresh 
young horses that required a somewhat similar 
treatment ; of trouble in regard to Shuts-up, to water 
allowances, to Brought-backs, and other technical 
matters. A late colleague of Erb’s introduced him 
to those who were strangers, and Erb made quite a 
considerable effort to exhibit friendly manners, 
until a South Western man, mistaking him for 
Spanswick, told him some of the things that were 
being said about young Barnes, whereupon Erb left 
and went into the club room. In the club room 
tables had been arranged in something of the shape 


78 


“ERB” 


of a capital U, and at the base a wooden hammer 
had been placed and a decanter and tumbler ; sheets 
of blue foolscap and scarlet blotting paper gave the 
room an official, business-like appearance. Payne 
was there in mufti as to coat, in uniform as to waist- 
coat and corduroy trousers; he was to be proposed 
as Chairman, and he stood now with his face to a 
Scotch whisky advertisement, his lips moving si- 
lently ; he nodded to Erb, and went on with his re- 
hearsal. Spanswick coming up with his entourage, 
took one of the sheets of paper and, with the stump 
of a pencil, began to make calculations which were 
audited, as he went on, by his friends. A few of 
the men marked the special nature of the proceed- 
ings by smoking cigars. The alert clock on the 
mantelpiece struck the half-hour in a sharp, ener- 
getic way and hurried on. 

“ I beg to move that Jack Payne do take the 
chair.” 

“ I beg to second.” 

“ All in favour,” said the first voice. “ On the 
contrary ? Carried unanimously and nem. con. 
Jack ” (turning to Mr. Payne), “ in you go.” 

“ In ordinary circs,” said Payne, after he had 
taken the chair and had risen to some applause, 
“ Pm perfectly well aware that the proper course 
to pursue at an affair like this is for the chair to 
call on the secretary to read the minutes of the last 
meeting. I know that without any of you telling 
me. But we’re in the position to-night of not ’aving 
no secretary and not ’aving no previous meetin\” 


“ERB” 


79 


The heads around the table nodded agreement. 
A gloomy man seated in the position that a vice- 
chairman might have occupied half rose and said, 
“ Mr. Chairman, sir/’ and was at once pulled back 
into his chair by those near him. 

“ I was never a man,” went on the Chairman, his 
forehead damp with nervousness, “ to what you may 
call force me opinions on any body of men. ’Cept- 
ing once, and that was at New Cross in ’89. I for- 
get exactly what it was about, and I forget who was 
there, and I forget what I said, but the entire inci- 
dent is quite fresh in my memory, and, as I say, 
that was the only occasion on which ” 

“ Question, question,” cried the gloomy man at 
the other end of the room. His neighbours hushed 
him into silence. 

“ I’m coming to the question as fast as ever I 
can. Few know better than me how to conduct a 
meeting of this kind, although I say it p’raps as 
shouldn’t, because it sounds like flattery, but it ain’t 
flattery, it’s only the truth. I’ve had it said to me 
over and over again, not once or twice, but many 
times ” 

“ Mr. Chairman, reely,” said the gloomy man, 
“ I must call you to order. We shall never get the 
business done this side of Chris’mas if ” 

“ Kindly sed down,” ordered Mr. Payne, in 
tones of command, “ or else resume your seat ; one 
or the other. It’s me,” tapping his waistcoat, “ me, 
sir, that calls people to order, not you.” 

The gloomy man argued in a loud whisper with 


8o 


“ERB M 


his neighbours, and, on these counselling that he 
should simmer down, sat back in his chair, survey- 
ing the ceiling, his lips closed determinedly. 

“ First thing is shall we, being all of a trade, 
form a separate society, or shall we jolly well do the 
other thing? That’s the point. Now then, who’s 
going to give us a start? You, my friend, of the 
Great Eastern, down at the bottom of this left ’and 
table, you seem to have a lot to say, p’raps we might 
give you ten minutes and see whether or not there’s 
any sense in you.” 

The gloomy man affected deafness until this had 
been explained to him by those sitting near, on 
which he told them rather haughtily that he spoke 
when he liked, and not when he was called upon. 

“ Then we must throw the ’andkerchief to some- 
body else. Spanswick, you might set the ball a-roll- 
ing. Don’t be longer than you can ’elp.” 

Erb watched. The impression that his rival 
made now would affect the later decision, and Erb 
could not help wishing that Spanswick might prove 
halting in utterance and clumsy of speech. Cheers 
greeted Spanswick ; some of the men looked at Erb, 
as they slapped the table with the palms of their 
hands to see how he took it, and Erb remembered, 
just in time, to join in the compliment. He recov- 
ered his hopefulness as soon as Spanswick spoke, 
for he noted that his opponent started with great 
rapidity of utterance, speaking also over-loudly — 
encouraging facts both. Spanswick was, of course, 
urging that they should form a separate society, but 


“ERB” 


81 


he had no arguments, only hurried expressions of 
his own opinion. Erb, with his eyes on a sheet of 
foolscap paper, noticed that the room relaxed its 
attention ; the gloomy man had his watch out, and 
was clearly preparing to shout at the appropriate 
moment, “Time, time!” Spanswick halted and 
went over one sentence twice, word for word. 
Then he stopped altogether, and the silent room saw 
him endeavour to recall his fleeting memory, saw 
him take from the inside pocket of his coat the en- 
tire speech and laboriously find the place. 

“ Beg pardon,” cried the gloomy man, starting 
up, “ but is a member entitled to read ” 

Spanswick, with now and again an anxious 
glance at Erb, read the remainder of his speech in 
a shamed undertone. There was but little cheer- 
ing when he finished; he was called up again be- 
cause he had forgotten to move the resolution. 
Four men competed for the honour of seconding 
this. 

“ Now then 1 ” said the Chairman, with relish, 
“ let’s go on in a orderly manner. First thing is, 
any amendment? No amendment? Vurry well, 
then! Now, is there any further remarks? The 
subject hasn’t been, if I may say so, thor’ly threshed 
out yet, and if — Thank you! Friend Barnes 
will now address the meeting.” 

Erb rose with the slight nervousness that he al- 
ways felt in commencing a speech. He began slow- 
ly and quietly: the Great Eastern man saw his 
chance for an interruption, and shouted, “ Let’s ’ear 


82 


“ERB” 


you,” but Erb took no notice. They were there, he 
said, to inaugurate a great work, a work to which 
some of them had given a considerable amount of 
care, and the scheme was so far advanced that he 
thought he could place a few details before them 
for consideration. There had been the grave ques- 
tion whether they should join the general society 
of London carmen, or whether they should form an 
independent society of their own. 

“ On a point of order, sir — ” began the gloomy 
man. 

“ If there is one man,” said Erb, raising his 
voice, “ in this room who is absolutely ignorant of 
order it is our Great Eastern friend at the other 
end of the room. A yelping little terrier that runs 
after a van doesn’t make the van go faster.” 

The room, now very crowded with uniformed 
men, especially near the doorway, approved this, 
and the Great Eastern man first looked round for 
support from his own colleagues, and, obtaining 
none, began to take desperate notes as Erb went on. 

“ I can’t waste time over a man who can only 
interrupt: I address myself to you. First, let 
me put my friend Spanswick right on a small 
detail. He urged that we should work quietly and 
secretly” — (cheers from Spanswick’s supporters) 
— “ I disagree ! I fail to see the usefulness of that. 
I think that all we do should be fair and above 
board, and I say this because if you combine, and 
let the railway companies see that you are combin- 
ing, you will be treated with greater respect. See 


“ERB” 




what’s happened in the case of my own late fellow 
carmen! It’s true I was sacrificed, but let that 
pass; see what advantages they got, just for the 
asking. They got ” 

Payne’s watch must have been suddenly affected, 
for he allowed Erb to speak for more than the 
period of ten minutes ; no one complained ; they 
were all too much interested. When Erb, in a fiery 
peroration, appealed to them to extend the recent 
action and make it general, with a strong reference 
to individualism, which they did not understand, 
and about which Erb himself was not quite sure, 
then the supporters of Spanswick forgot their reti- 
cence and cheered with the rest. 

“ And I trust,” added Erb modestly and finally, 
“ that I ’aven’t took up too much of your time.” 

The resolution was carried. 

“ Now,” said the Chair, “ if any of you thought 
of standing me a drink, or even of ’aving one your- 
self, p’raps you’ll seize the opportunity whilst the 
waiters are in the room, and then we can shut them 
out whilst we go on to the next bisness.” 

“Erb!” cried Spanswick along the table, 
“ what’s yours ? ” 

It was felt that this was a great piece of strat- 
egy on Spanswick’s part, and Erb’s refusal counted 
nothing for righteousness ; one or two of Erb’s sup- 
porters shook their heads to intimate that this was 
not diplomacy. The waiters brought in japanned 
trays of glasses on their high, outstretched palms, 
carrying change everywhere, in their pockets, in 


8 4 


n ERB M 


their tweed caps, in a knot in their handkerchiefs, 
in their mouths. They completed their work in a 
few minutes and went, obeying leisurely the Chair- 
man’s imperious wave of the hammer. 

“ We come, now,” said Payne loudly, “ to what 
I venture to term the principal item on the agender. 
That is, the appointment of seceretary.” Both Erb 
and Spanswick showed signs of puzzled astonish- 
ment. “ There’s no less than two suggestions that 
have been ’anded up: one is that we should ’ave a 
honery seceretary, which I may explain for the 
benefit of some, means one who will perform his 
services in a honery way: the other is that we 
should ’ave a paid seceretary, which means that we 
should have to plank down about a ’undred a year, 
otherwise, two quid a week, and that’d cover his 
slight travelling expenses. There’s a good deal,” 
added the Chair impartially, “ to be said on both 
sides, and, at this stage of the proceedings, I don’t 
attempt to dictate. This room’s a bit warmish, and 
if you don’t mind me taking off my coat, why, 
I shall be more comfortable than what I am at the 
present moment.” 

The men around the table imitated example, and, 
hanging their jackets on the backs of the chairs, ad- 
dressed themselves to the new subject. 

“What?” said the Chair. “You woke up 
again ? ” 

“ I should like to ask,” said the gloomy Great 
Eastern man, ignoring this remark, “ whether 
there’s any sense in paying a ’undred pounds a year 


“ER B” 85 

for a article that we can get for nothing? That’s 
all I want to know.” 

“ Argue the point, my good sir,” urged the 
Chair, “ argue in a speech.” 

“ I’ve said my say,” retorted the other stub- 
bornly. 

“ If it was the self-same article,” said the Chair, 
shaking his hammer in a friendly way towards the 
Great Eastern man, “ then I should be with you. 
But is it ? ” The shirt sleeves rested on the tables ; 
the men began to show renewed interest. 

“ I asked a plain question, I want a plain an- 
swer ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” said the Chair, disgustedly, “ you go to 
— well, I won’t say where. You’ve got no more 
idea of conducting a meeting than this ’ammer. 
Why don’t someone prepose a resolution ? ” 

“ Beg — propose,” said a young man desperately, 
“ my friend Spanswick — honery sec’tary — new so- 
ciety.” 

“ Beg second that,” jerked another youth. 

“ In view of the fac’,” said a South Eastern 
man, half rising, “ that if you want a thing done 
well you ought to pay for it, I think we ought to 
’ave a man who’ll devote his whole energies to 
the work. Therefore, I beg to suggest Erb Barnes 
as — as ” 

“ Organisin’ secretary ! ” whispered a neighbour. 

“ I second that vote — mean to say, resolution.” . 

“Any other names?” asked the Chair. “Very 
good then! Now, I shall ask these two chaps to 


86 


“ERB M 


kindly retire, in other words, to leave the room, so 
as to leave us free to discuss ” 

“ Point of order occurs to me,” interrupted the 
gloomy Great Eastern man acutely, “ Can they 
leave the room ? ” 

The room watched Erb and Spanswick as the 
two made their way behind the chairs to the door- 
way. Erb opened the door, and motioned to Spans- 
wick to go first, but Spanswick, not to be outdone 
in politeness, declined absolutely, insisting that Erb 
should take precedence, and when they decided to 
stop the display of courtesy, both blundered out at 
the same moment. As they closed the door be- 
hind them they heard several voices addressing the 
chair. 

“ Ever gone in for scarlet runners ? ” asked 
Spanswick. “ I’ve only got a little bit of a garden, 
but I suppose there isn’t another man in Rother- 
hithe that grows the scarlet runners I do; people 
come from far and near to see ’em. There’s a good 
deal of art, mind you, in the stickin’ of ’em. Sun- 
flowers, too! I’ve had tremendous luck with my 
sunflowers. I believe I could grow most anything 
in my little back place if it wasn’t for the cats. 
Vurry good plan of dealin’ with cats ” 

Erb allowed his rival to make conversation 
whilst he himself considered the importance of 
these moments that were passing. He looked hard 
at a picture on the walls of the landing, a picture 
representing a cheerful Swiss valley and advertis- 
ing Somebody’s Ginger Beer; the villagers held 


“ERB” 


*7 


goblets containing (presumably) this beverage, and 
toasted the snow-topped mountains at the back. He 
forced himself to recognise that his chances were 
small; unless he had made a particularly good im- 
pression by his speech he had no chance at all; he 
would have to commence to-morrow morning a 
round of calls on master carmen and on contracting 
firms^ with the obsequious inquiry, “ You don’t 
’appen to want a hand, I s’pose ? ” and receiving the 
negative reply. He had obtained a clean character 
from the Railway Company, and the Chief had 
wished him good-luck, but the information that 
he was a stirabout would fly round in advance of 
him, and all the best places would be on the de- 
fensive. It might come to driving a cheap coal van, 
otherwise known as working in the slate business. 
There was an alternative even less agreeable to 
think of. He knew one or two men who had just 
missed being leaders of labour, who sometimes 
opened debates at Clubs, and were paid fairly liberal 
expenses, who were sometimes approached by the 
capitalists to stump through London in an endeav- 
our to lash working men into a state of indignation 
in regard to Foreign Competition, Sugar Bounties, 
or the tyranny of Trades Unions, or some other sub- 
ject for which the capitalists had affection: these 
men at times coalesced and, urged by a common 
jealousy, denounced some prominent men of their 
own party, and found their names mentioned in the 
opposition journals, the reporters of which bribed 
them in order to obtain exclusive information of 


88 


“ERB M 


semi-public meetings. Erb told the Swiss valley 
that it would be long ere he came down to that. 

“ You take a spade,” exclaimed his companion, 
“ an ornery spade will do, and you dig it in the 
garden like so, and what do you find? Why you 
find ” 

Young Louisa would be disappointed too. 
Louisa had been less successful since the servants’ 
dance at Eaton Square in cloaking her admiration 
for her brother, and the last young man had been 
dismissed with ignominy because he showed hesita- 
tion in sacrificing his own views on political subjects 
and accepting those held by Erb. If he had not 
already passed from the memory of Lady Frances, 
she might perhaps inquire of Alice the result of the 
meeting, and, hearing it, would smile agreeably and 
push him away from her thoughts. To be shown 
through Bermondsey by an official in the labour 
world would be one thing; to be conducted by a 
grimy-faced carman was another. And there was 
Rosalind — Rosalind — what was her other name? 

“ Now, in regard to meenure,” said Spanswick 
dogmatically, “ the long and short of the matter is 
simply this.” 

He had found in Southampton Street, Camber- 
well, on the previous day (being on the Surrey side 
round), a painted board on a house announcing 
here, “ Elocution and Public Speaking Taught ! 
Pupils prepared for the Dramatic Stage! Apply 
within to Professor Danks ! ” and it then occurred 
to him that this was the address given him by the 


“ERB n 


89 


footman in Eaton Square. The front garden was 
filled with monumental statues belonging to an un- 
dertaker next door, and engraved with names and 
dates, tombstones which for some inexplicable rea- 
son had not been used. He had gone up the un- 
even pavement from the front gate to the door and 
had knocked there, but the door being opened by 
the tall, bright-eyed girl, plainly and economically 
dressed, and with a suggestion of care near to her 
bright eyes, he had for some extraordinary reason, 
muttered “ Beg pardon. Wrong number !” and 
had stumbled back to the gate, hot-faced with con- 
fusion. He knew that his powers of speech lacked 
refinement, and one or two finishing lessons would 
work miracles : he might perhaps learn how to aspi- 
rate without the show of pain and anxiety that he 
exhibited now when he endeavoured to observe the 
trying rule. The bright-eyed girl, he remembered, 
had stood at the doorway looking after him rather 
reproachfully. 

“ Of course,” said the injured voice of Spans- 
wick, “ if it’s too much trouble for you to listen, 
why it isn’t any use me talking.” 

“ Sorry,” he said absently. “ Fact is, I don’t 
take very much interest in gardening.” 

“ I was talking about poultry.” 

“ They both come under the same head,” re- 
marked Erb. 

“ I suppose, as a matter of fact, you’re pretty 
keen on this ’ere job?” 

“ They’re a long time deciding,” said Erb. 


9 ° 


“ERB” 


“ I’ve been expectin’,” Spanswick made circles 
on the landing with his right foot in a hesitating 
way, “ I’ve been expectin' that you’d approach me 
and ask me to withdraw from the contest.” 

“ What’d be the use of that?” 

“ Well,” said Spanswick in a mysterious whis- 
per, “ you know what Shakespeare says ? ” 

“ He said a lot.” 

“ You’re a mere kid in these matters,” remarked 
the other contemptuously, walking away to the 
other end of the landing. “ Haven’t you never 
’eard of buying off the opposition? In the present 
case, suppose you was to say, ‘ Spanny, old man, 
is twen’y-five bob any use to you ? ’ and I should 
answer ‘ Well, I could do with it,’ and you paid the 
money over ’ere.” Spanswick held out one hand. 
“ And I said, ‘ Well, now, come to think of it, what’s 
the good of this job to me? I shan’t make nothing 
out of it, unless it is a silver teapot for the missus ; 
I’ll withdraw my nomination and leave you a clear 
field.’ See?” 

“ Upon my word,” exclaimed Erb indignantly, 
“ upon my word if you ain’t the biggest ” 

“ Mind you,” interrupted the other, “ I was only 
putting a suppositious case.” The door of the club 
room opened, and a voice said importantly, “ Spans- 
wick and Barnes, this way, please.” They turned 
to obey. “ There y’are,” said Spanswick reproach- 
fully, “ you’ve left it too late.” 

Looking over the banisters, Erb saw that wom- 
en-folk had arrived, charged with the double duty 


“E R B ” 


9 * 


of listening to the coming concert and of conveying 
their male relatives home at a reasonable hour. 
Louisa’s white young face glanced up at him with 
a twitch, and asked anxiously whether it was all 
over; Erb replied that, on the contrary, it was just 
about to begin. 

“ Kindly take your former seats,” said the Chair- 
man importantly. The chattering room became 
quiet as the two men entered, and Payne rapped 
with his hammer for silence. “ The voting has come 
out,” he went on, looking at some figures on the 
sheet of foolscap before him, “ the voting has come 
out 29 on one side and 14 on the other.” 

The rattle of conversation recommenced. 

“ Less noise there, less noise ! ” cried the Chair 
urgently. “ I can’t ’ear meself talk.” 

“ Wish we couldn’t,” remarked the Great East- 
ern man from his end of the table. 

“ Be careful, my friend,” said the Chair wam- 
ingly. “ Be careful, or else I shall rule you out of 
order. I have the pleasure now of calling on my 
friend Erb Barnes.” The room cheered. “ Or- 
der, please, for Erb Barnes.” 

“ What have I got to talk about ? ” demanded 
Erb. 

“Talk about?” echoed the Chair amazedly. 
“ Talk about ? Why, you’ve got to acknowledge 
in a few appropriate words your appointment as paid 
organisin’ secretary of the Railway Carmen’s So- 
ciety.” 


CHAPTER V 


Erb entered upon his duties with appetite. The 
single office of the new society was a spare room 
over a coffee tavern in Grange Road, and the first 
disbursement was for the painting on the window 
in bold white letters the full title of the society, 
with the added words, “ Herbert Barnes, secretary/' 
(Young Louisa went five minutes out of her way, 
morning ^nd evening, in order to see this procla- 
mation of her brother’s name.) To the office came 
Erb promptly every morning at an hour when the 
attendants at the coffee-room were on their knees 
scrubbing, chairs set high on tables, and forms on 
end against the walls, and the young women were 
a good deal annoyed by the fact that Erb, in these 
circumstances, bestowed on them none of the chaff 
and badinage which were as necessary to their ex- 
istence as the very air. When he had gone through 
the post letters — the more there were of these the 
more contented he was — and had answered them 
on post-cards, he went out, fixing a notice on the 
door, “ Back Shortly. Any messages leave at Bar,” 
and hurried to some railway depot, or some point 
where railway carmen were likely to congregate, 
hurrying non-members into becoming members, 
passing the word round in regard to public meet- 
92 


“ERB” 


93 


mgs, hunting for grievances, and listening always, 
even when some, with erroneous ideas of his duties, 
requested advice in regard to some domestic trouble 
with lodgers, or insubordination on the part of babes. 
All this meant visits to Paddington, to Willesden, 
to Dalston, to Poplar, to Nine Elms: it gave to 
him a fine sensation of ruling London and, in some 
way, the thought that he was repairing errors made 
by the Creator of the world. He came in contact 
with the white-haired Labour member of Parlia- 
ment, and watched his manner closely ; the Labour 
member invited Erb one evening to the House of 
Commons, and Erb found that the Labour member 
had for the House a style differing entirely from 
that which he used in other places, measuring words 
with care, speaking with deliberation, and avoiding 
all the colloquialisms and the jagged sentences that 
made him popular when he addressed outdoor meet- 
ings. And as all young men starting the journey 
through life model themselves on some one who 
has arrived, Erb determined to acquire this admira- 
ble alternative manner. 

Thus it was that one Thursday evening he took 
courage by the hand, and went Camberwell way to 
call again at the house where on his previous visit 
he had made undignified departure because of a 
pair of rather bright eyes. He thought of her with 
some nervousness as he went down Camberwell 
New Road, and, putting aside for a moment the 
serious matters, gave himself the joy of reviewing 
his female acquaintances. He had just come to 
7 


94 


“ERB” 


the sage decision that different women exacted en- 
tirely different tributes, some demanding reverence, 
others admiration, and others something more fer- 
vent, when he found himself at the gate and the 
uneven path between the monumental statuary that 
led to the door of Professor Danks’s house. The 
street was one affecting to make a short cut to 
Queen’s Road, Peckham, but it did not really make 
a short cut ; within its crescent form it included new 
model dwellings of a violent red, elderly houses with 
red verandahs, a Liberal Club, and a chapel. A 
part of the road had undergone the process of being 
shopped, which is to say that the long useless front 
gardens had been utilised, and anxious, empty, un- 
successful young establishments came out to the 
pavement, expending all their profits on gas, and 
making determined efforts either by placard or 
minatory signs to persuade the passers-by that busi- 
ness was enormous, and that it was with difficulty 
that customers could be checked in their desire to 
patronise. One had started with the proud boast, 
“ Everything at Sixpence-halfpenny,” and had later 
altered the six to five, and the five to four; only 
necessary to allow time, and there seemed some 
good prospect that the reckless shop would even- 
tually give its contents free. Erb pulled at the bell 
handle, and it came out obligingly. 

“ Now you ’ave gone and done it,” said the 
small servant who opened the door. “ That’s clever, 
that is. I suppose you get medals for doing tricks 
like that? Well, well,” she continued fractiously, 


“ERB” 


95 


as Erb made no reply, “ don’t stand there like a 
great gawk with the knob in your ’and. What 
d’you want ? ” 

“ Might Professor Danks be in ? ” asked Erb. 

“ He might and he might not,” explained the 
small servant. “ He’s jest sleepin’ it off a bit on 
the sofa.” 

“ Can I see anyone else ? ” 

“ Come in,” said the girl with a burst of friend- 
liness. “ Never mind about wipin’ your boots ; it’s 
getting to the end of the week. You could see 
her if you didn’t mind waiting till she’s finished 
giving a lesson.” 

“ Shall I wait here in the passage ? ” 

“ Don’t disturb him,” whispered the girl, “ if I 
let you rest your weary bones in the back room.” 
She opened the door of the back room quietly. 
“ She's as right as rain,” whispered the girl confi- 
dently, “ but he — ” The girl gave an expressive 
wave of the hand, signifying that the Professor was 
not indispensable to the world’s happiness. Erb 
went in. “ I’d stay and chat to you,” she said 
through the doorway, “ only there’s my ironin’. 
I’ve got the ’ole ’ouse to look after, mind you, 
besides answering the front door.” 

“ Takes a bit of doing, no doubt.” 

“ You never said a truer word,” whispered the 
short servant. “ There’s pictures in that magazine 
you can look at. If you want me, ’oiler ‘ Lizer!’ 
over the banisters.” 

Professor Danks, asleep on the sofa, had the 


9 6 


“ERB” 


Era over his face for better detachment from a 
wakeful world: the paper was slipping gradually, 
and Erb, watching him over the top of the book, 
knew that the eclipse would be over and the fea- 
tures fully visible in a few minutes. Meanwhile, 
he noticed that the Professor was a large, heavy 
man, with snowy hair at one end, and slippers which 
had walked along muddy pavements at the other; 
not a man, apparently, of active habits. 

“ I fear I shall never make anything of you,” 
her decided voice came from the front room. 
“ You don’t pay attention. You don’t seem to re- 
member what I tell you.” 

“ Mustn’t be too harsh with my husband, miss,” 
said a voice with the South London whine. “We 
all have to make a beginning, don’t forget that.” 

“ Now, sir. Once more, please, we’ll go through 
this piece of poetry. And when you say the first 
lines, ‘ Give others the flags of foreign states,’ show 
some animation; don’t say the words casually, as 
though you were talking of the weather.” 

“ You understand, miss,” interposed the pupil’s 
wife, “ that he’s made up the words out of his own 
head.” 

“ I am sure of that,” with a touch of sarcasm. 

“ But, whilst he’s very clever in putting poetry 
together, he is not so good — I’m speaking, Albert 
dear, for your own benefit — he is not so good in 
reciting of them. And we go out into Society a 
great deal (there’s two parties on at New Cross 
only next month that we’re asked to), and what I 


“ERB” 


97 


thought was that it would be so nice any time 
when an evening began to go a bit slow for me 
to say casually, ye know, ‘ Albert, what about that 
piece you made up yourself ? ’ Then for him to 
get up and recite it in a gentlemanly way.” 

“ Come now,” said the instructress, “ * Give 
others the flags of foreign states, I care not for 
them a jot.’ ” 

“ Of course,” interposed the wife again, “ his 
high-pitched voice is against him, but that’s his 
misfortune, not his fault. Also you may think that 
he’s left it rather late to take up with elocution. 
If we’d ever had any children of our own ” 

“ I really think,” said the girl, “ that we must 
get on with the lesson. Now, sir, if you please. 
‘ Give others the flags.’ ” 

The Era had slipped from the Professor’s red 
face, and the swollen, poached-egg eyes moved, the 
heavy eyelids made one or two reluctant efforts to 
unclose. The room, Erb thought, looked as though 
it were troubled by opposing forces, one anxious 
to keep it neat and keep it comfortable, the other 
with entirely different views, and baulking these 
efforts with some success. Erb saw the household 
clearly and felt a desire to range himself on the side 
of order. 

“ Good evening,” he said, when the leaden eye- 
lids had decided to open. “ Having your little nap, 
sir? ” 

The Professor sat up, kneading his eyes and 
then rubbing his white hair violently. 


9 8 


“ERB” 


“ I have been/’ he said, in a voice that would 
have sounded important if it had not been hoarse, 
“ making a brief excursion into the land of dreams.” 
He clicked his tongue. “ And a devil of a mouth 
Fve got on me, too.” He rose heavily and went to 
a bamboo table where two syphons were standing, 
tried them, and found they were empty. “ A 
curse,” he said, “ on both your houses.” 

“ Fve called about some lessons.” 

“ Lessons ! ” repeated the Professor moodily. 
“ That I, Reginald Danks, should be reduced to 
this! I, who might have been at the Lyceum at 
the present moment but for fate and Irving. How 
many lessons,” he asked with a change of manner, 
“ do you require, laddie ? ” 

“ I thought about six,” said Erb. 

“ Make it a dozen. We offer thirteen for the 
price of twelve.” 

“ What would that number run me into ? I 
want them more for public speaking than anything 
else.” 

“ We shall do the whole bag of tricks for you,” 
said the Professor, placing an enormous hand on 
Erb’s shoulder, “ for a mere trifle.” 

“ Who is ‘we?’” 

“ Rather should you say, * To whom is it that 
you refer ? ’ In this self-appointed task of impart- 
ing the principles of voice production and elocution 
to the — to the masses,” the Professor seemed to re- 
strain himself forcibly from using a contumelious 
adjective, “ I have the advantage of valuable assist- 


“E R B ” 


99 


ance from my daughter. Her system is my system, 
her methods are my methods, her rules are my rules. 
If at any time I should be called away on profes- 
sional business,” here the Professor passed his hand 
over his lip, “ my daughter, Rosalind, takes my 
place. What is your age ? ” 

Erb gave the information. 

“ Ah,” the Professor sighed deeply, “ in ’74 I 
was. with Barry Sullivan doing the principal towns 
in a repertoire. No, Pm telling you a lie. It was 
not in ’74. It was in the autumn of ’73. I played 
Rosencrantz and the First Grave-digger — an enor- 
mous success.” 

“ Which?” 

“ I went from Barry Sullivan to join the ‘ Mur- 
derous Moment ’ Company, and that,” said the Pro- 
fessor, striking his waistcoat, “ was perhaps one of 
the biggest triumphs ever witnessed on the dramatic 
stage. From that hour, sir, from that hour I never 
looked back.” 

The high-voiced pupil in the front room finished 
his lesson, and his wife took him ofj with the con- 
gratulatory remark that he promised well to make 
her relatives at forthcoming parties sit up with as- 
tonishment. The Professor’s daughter, seeing them 
both to the front door, remarked that her pupil 
would be able to find his way alone the next time, 
whereupon the pupil’s wife answered darkly, “ Do 
you really think I should let him go out ? ” 

“ Shall I settle with you ? ” asked Erb. 

“ My daughter Rosalind,” said the Professor 


IOO 


“ERB” 


regretfully, “ insists, as a general rule, on taking 
charge of the business side, but on this occa- 
sion ” 

“ If that’s the rule,” interrupted Erb, “ don’t 
let’s break it. I don’t want any misunderstanding 
about matters of cash.” 

“ There have been times in my life, sir, when 
money has been as nothing to me. Will you be- 
lieve that there was a time in my professional ca- 
reer when I earnt twenty guineas — twenty of the 
best — per week ? ” 

“ Since you ask me, my answer is 4 No.’ ” 

“ You are quite right,” said the Professor, and 
in no way disconcerted. “ Let us be exact in our 
statements or perish. Not twenty guineas, twenty 
pounds. But that,” he went on rather hurriedly, 
“ that was at a time when real acting, sir, was ap- 
preciated. Nowadays they walk in from the streets. 
Ee-locution is a lost art; acting, real acting, is not 
to be seen on the London boards. If you have a 
cigarette about you, I can get a light from the fire- 
place.” £ 

Erb acted upon this hint, and listened for the 
girl’s voice. 

“ Her mother,” went on the Professor, puffing 
at the cigarette, and then looking at it disparaging- 
ly, “ her mother before she fell ill — mind, I’m not 
complaining — was perhaps, without exception, the 
most diversified arteest that ever graced the dra- 
matic stage. Ingenue, old woman, soubrette, noth- 
ing came amiss to her. That was the difference be- 


“ERB” 


IOI 


tween us — she liked work. And when, just before 
the end, when I’d been out of engagement for some 
time, she had an offer for the pair of us, two pounds 
ten the couple, such was her indomitable spirit that 
she actually wanted to accept it. But I said ‘ No.’ 
I put my foot down. I admit,” said the Professor 
genially, “ that I lost my temper with her. I told 
her • pretty definitely that I had made up my 
mind ” 

“Your what?” inquired Erb. 

“ That poverty I could face, dee-privation I 
could endure, hunger and thirst I could welcome 
with o-pen arms, but a contemptuous proposition 
such as this I could not, should not, and would not 
tolerate. I repeated this,” added the Professor with 
a fine roll and a sweep of the left hand, “ at the 
inquest.” 

“ You’re a nice one, I don’t think,” said Erb 
critically. “ How is it they let you live on ? ” 

“ Laddie,” said the Professor, tearfully, “ my 
life is not an enviable one even now. My own 
daughter — Soft ! — she comes.” 

It occurred to Erb later that in his anxiety to 
show himself a careless, self-possessed fellow, he 
rather overdid it, presenting himself in the light of 
one slightly demented. He nodded his head on for- 
mal introduction by the Professor, hummed a cheer- 
ful air, and, taking out a packet of cigarette papers, 
blew at one, and recollecting, twisted the detached 
slip into a butterfly shape and puffed it to the ceiling. 
The girl looked at him, at her father, then again at 


102 


“ERB” 


Erb. She had a pencil resting between the buttons 
of her pink blouse, and but for a slight contraction 
of the forehead that is the public sign of private 
worry, would have been a very happy-looking 
young person indeed. 

“ A would-be student,” said her father with a 
proud wave of the hand towards Erb, as though he 
had just made him, “a would-be student, my love: 
one anxious to gain at our hands the principles of 
voice pro-duction and ee-locution.” 

“ When do you propose to begin, sir ? ” she 
asked, limping slightly as she went to a desk. 

“ Soon as your father’s ready, miss.” 

“ I have heard you speak in the park.” 

“ Most people have ! ” replied Erb, with a fine 
assumption of indifference. 

“ I’ll just register your name, please.” 

“ Our sys-tem,” said the Professor oracularly, 
as Erb bent over her and gave the information 
(there was a pleasant warm scent from her hair), 
“ is to conduct everything in a perfectly business- 
like manner. I remember on one occasion Mr. 
Phelps said to me, ‘ Danks, my dear young friend, 
never, never — ’ My dear Rosalind, give me the 
word. What was it,” the Professor tapped his 
large forehead reprovingly, “what was it I was talk- 
ing about ? ” 

“ I don’t think it matters, father. You pay in 
advance, please,” she said to Erb. “ Thank you. 
I’m not sure that I have sufficient change in the 
house.” 


“ERB” 


103 


“ I will step down the road,” suggested the Pro- 
fessor with a slight excess of eagerness, “ and ob- 
tain the necessary ” 

“ No, father.” 

“ Think Fve got just enough silver,” said Erb. 

“ Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” 

Good to be called Mister, better still to find it 
accompanied by a smile of gratitude that somehow 
also intimated comradeship and a defensive alliance 
against the ingenious Professor. The Professor, 
affecting to examine a pimple on his chin at the 
mirror, looked at his daughter’s reflection in an 
appealing way; but she shook her head quickly. 
The Professor sighed and, turning back the cuffs 
of his shirt, put on an elderly velvet jacket. 

“ I have some work to do downstairs,” she said, 
with a curt little bow to Erb. “ You will excuse 
me.” 

“ Only too pleased, miss,” he said blunderingly. 

“ Father, you will give Mr. Barnes an hour, 
please, in the front room. I will come up when the 
time is ” 

“ Then I needn’t say good-bye,” remarked Erb 
gallantly. 

The Professor in the front room declaimed to 
the new pupil a passage from the “ Merchant of 
Venice,” from the centre of the carpet, and then 
invited him to repeat it, which Erb did, the Pro- 
fessor arresting him at every line, correcting the 
accent with acerbity and calling attention to the 
aspirates with something like tears. “ Why don’t 


104 


“ERB” 


you speak naturally, sir ? ” demanded the Profess- 
or, hitting his own chest with his fist, “ as I dew ? ” 
At the end of twenty minutes, when the Professor 
had furnished some really valuable rules in regard 
to the artifices of voice production, he gave a sudden 
dramatic start, and begged Erb for pity’s sake not 
to tell him that the day was Thursday and the hour 
half-past seven. On Erb admitting his inability to 
give him other information without stepping beyond 
the confines of truth, the Professor strode up and 
down the worn carpet in a state of great agitation, 
declaring that unless he were in the Strand by 
eight fifteen, or, at the very latest, eight twenty that 
evening, he would, in all probability, lose the chance 
of a lifetime. 

“ What am I to do ? ” he asked imploringly. 
“ I appeal to you, laddie ? Show me where duty 
calls ? ” 

On Erb suggesting that perhaps Miss Rosalind 
would finish the lesson, the Professor shook him 
warmly by both hands and ordered heaven in a 
dictatorial way to rain down blessings on the head 
of his pupil. One difficulty remained. Time pressed, 
and every moment was (in all probability) golden. 
Could Mr. Barnes, as an old friend, oblige with 
half a — no, not half a crown, two shillings. The 
Professor, in the goodness of his heart, did not mind 
four sixpences, and hurrying out into the passage, 
struggled into a long brown overcoat of the old 
Newmarket shape, took his soft hat, and, having 
called over the banisters to his daughter to favour 


“ERB” 


i°5 

him with a moment’s conversation, bustled through 
the passage whispering to Erb, “ You can explain 
better than I,” and going out, closed the door qui- 
etly. There were signs of flour on the girl’s plump 
arms as she came up ; she rolled down the sleeves 
of the pink blouse as she entered the front room. 
Her forehead contracted as she listened. 

“ How much did he borrow ? ” she asked, check- 
ing a sigh. 

“ Nothing,” replied Erb boldly. 

“ Two shillings or a half a crown ? ” 

“ But I couldn’t possibly think for a moment — ” 
he began protestingly. 

“ I wish you had,” she said. “ Take it, please. 
I don’t want father to run into debt if I can help it.” 

“ Makes me feel as though I’m robbing you.” 

“ Do you know,” said Miss Rosalind, with not 
quite half a smile, “ it makes me feel as though I 
were being robbed. Let us get on with the lesson, 
please; I have another pupil coming at half-past 
eight.” Erb, for a hot moment, was consumed with 
unreasonable jealousy of the next pupil. “ She is 
always punctual,” added Rosalind, and Erb became 
cooler. “ Take this book, please, and read aloud 
the passage I have marked.” 

There were faded photographs on the mantel- 
piece of ladies with exuberant smiles, calculated to 
disarm any criticism in regard to their eccentric at- 
tire, their signatures sprawled across the lower right 
hand corner, “ Ever yours most affectionate ! ” A 
frame that had seen stormy days outside provincial 


io6 


“ERB” 


theatres hung on the wall with the address of its 
last exhibition half rubbed off. Erb as he listened 
to the girl’s serious corrections and warning, 
guessed that the half-dozen portraits it contained 
were all of Rosalind’s mother; they ranged from 
one as Robinson Crusoe with a white muff to a 
more matronly representation of (judging from her 
hat) a designing Frenchwoman holding a revolver 
in one hand, and clearly prepared to use this. In 
another she was fondling a child, whose head and 
face were almost covered by a stage wig, and the 
child bore some far-away resemblance to the pres- 
ent instructress. On Rosalind limping across the 
room to place on the fire an economical lump of 
coal, Erb framed an expression of sympathy ; com- 
mon-sense most fortunately gagged him. 

“ You left school when you were very young? ” 
said the girl, looking over her shoulder from the 
fireplace. 

“ Pawsed the sixth standard when I was ” 

“ Oh, please, please ! Don’t say pawsed.” 

“ I passed the sixth standard when I was twelve, 
because I had to. Father was Kentish born, 
mother wasn’t. Both died in the ” — Rosalind put 
her hands apprehensively to her ears — “ in the hos- 
pital in one week, both in one week, and I had to 
set to and get shot of the Board School and go 
out.” 

" As ? ” she asked curiously. 

“ As chief of the Transport Department to the 
principal railway companies,” said Erb glibly, “ and 


“ERB M 


107 

personal friend, and, I may say, adviser to his 
Royal ” 

“We will proceed,” said Rosalind, haughty on 
the receipt of sarcasm, “ with the lesson, please. 
There is much to be done in the way of eradicating 
errors in your speech.” 

The reliable lady pupil due at eight thirty spoilt 
her record by arriving half an hour late. Thus, 
when Erb’s lesson was finished and the clock on the 
mantelpiece gave the hour in a hurried asthmatic 
way, there was still time for polite conversation on 
a variety of topics ; the house, Erb discovered, was 
not theirs, they only occupied furnished apartments ; 
they had lived in many parts of London, because, 
said Rosalind cautiously, the Professor liked a 
change now and again. Erb backed slowly towards 
the door as each subject was discussed, anxious to 
stay as long as possible, but more anxious still to 
make his exit with some clever impressive final re- 
mark. He found her book of notices, and insisted 
politely on reading the neatly pasted slips cut from 
the “ Hornsey Express,” the “ South London Jour- 
nal,” the “ Paddington Magpie,” and other news- 
papers of repute, which said “ Miss Rosalind Danks 
in her recitals made the hit of the evening, and the 
same may be said of all the other artists on the 
programme.” That “ Miss R. Danks, as our ad- 
vertisement column shows, is to give An Evening 
with the Poets and Humorists at our Town Hall 
on Thursday evening. We wish her a bumper.” 
That “ Miss Rosalind Danks’s naivete of manner and 


io8 


“ERB” 


general chic enabled her in an American contribu- 
tion to score a terrific ‘ succes d’estime.’ She nar- 
rowly escaped an enthusiastic encore .” That “ Miss 
Danks lacks some of the charms necessary for a 
good platform appearance ” 

“ I’d like to argue the point with the man who 
wrote that,” said Erb. 

“ They have to fill the paper with something,” 
remarked Miss Rosalind. 

“ For a good platform appearance, but she has 
a remarkably distinct enunciation, and some of her 
lines could be heard almost distinctly at the back of 
the hall.” That “ Miss Danks comes of a theatrical 
stock, and her father is none other than the cele- 
brated Mr. Reginald Danks, whose Antonio still 
remains in the memory of the few privileged to 
witness it. Mr. Reginald Danks informs us that he 
has had several offers from West End theatres, but 
that he has some idea of going in for management 
himself as soon as a convenient playhouse can be 
secured. Of this, more anon.” 

It was natural when Erb had looked through 
these notices that he should find in his pocket two 
or three copies of a small poster advertising a lec- 
ture by him on the forthcoming Sunday evening, 
at a hall in Walworth Road. “ Mr. Herbert 
Barnes,” said the poster loudly, adding in a lower 
voice, “ Organising Secretary Railway Carmen’s 
Union, will speak on The Working Man : What 
Will Become of Him? No collection. Discussion 
invited.” Erb gave Miss Rosalind one of these as 


“ERB” 


109 

a present, and then said, “ Well now, I must be 
off,” as though he had been detained greatly against 
his will. 

And here it was that Erb made one of those 
mistakes of commission which the most reliable of 
us effect at uncertain intervals. He took up the 
photograph of a fur-coated young man, clean-shaven 
face, thin lips, and not quite enough of chin. 

“ And who/’ asked Erb pityingly, “ who might 
this young toff be?” 

“ He is stage manager,” she said rather proudly, 
“ to a company touring in the provinces. Plays 
too.” 

“ Relation?” 

“ Not yet,” said Rosalind. 

As Erb blundered through the passage Rosalind 
warned him to attend to the home-work she had 
given him to do, and to come promptly to his next 
lesson; she held the door open until Erb went out 
of the gate, a new politeness which he acknowl- 
edged by lifting his hat. He had never lifted his 
hat to a lady before, and had always smiled con- 
temptuously when he had seen gallant youths per- 
forming this act of respect. To atone for this retro- 
grade movement he ran against the tardily-arriving 
lady pupil, and went on without apology. The lady 
pupil ejaculated, “ Clown ! ” and Erb felt that he 
had righted himself in his own estimation. 

He looked about him as he walked up the crowd- 
ed pavement towards the Elephant and Castle, be- 
cause it was always one of his duties to recognise 
8 


no 


“ERB” 


the railway vans. Disappointment clouded his eyes : 
he blamed himself for so far forgetting the principal 
duty of his life as to waste time on unremunerative 
investments. This was why he missed a Brighton 
goods van standing with its pair of horses near a 
large shop in Newington Causeway; the van boy 
reported Erb’s negligence to his mate when he re- 
turned, and this coming on the top of other annoy- 
ing circumstances, the Brighton man said to him- 
self, “ This shall be chalked up against you, young 
Erb.” 

Erb reached Page’s Walk, having tried ineffec- 
tually to walk himself into a good humour, and found 
Louisa with a round spot of colour high up on 
either cheek, looking out of the window of the model 
dwellings and hailing him excitedly. 

“ Put that ’ead of yours in,” he counselled. 
“ You’ll go and catch cold.” 

“ You won’t catch much,” retorted Louisa, “ if 
you don’t arrange to be on ’and when wanted. 
’Urry upstairs, Eve got something to tell you that 
can’t be bawled.” 

Erb ran up the stone stairs, and Louisa met him 
at the door of the sitting-room, her eyes bigger 
than ever with the importance. The room had a 
slight perfume of violets. 

“ Who d’you think’s been ’ere ? ” 

“ Tell us,” said Erb. 

“ But guess,” begged Louisa, enjoying the 
power that was hers. 

“ Can’t guess.” 


“ERB M 


hi 


“ Lady Frances,” said Louisa, in an impressive 
whisper. 

“ Well,” remarked Erb curtly, “ what of it? ” 

“ What of it ? Why, she wanted you to show 
her over Bermondsey, and she waited here upwards 
of a hower, chatting away to me like anything/’ 

“ Any other news ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Louisa reluctantly, “ but nothing 
of much importance. Letter from Aunt Emma; 
she’s coming up soon. Oh, and a man called to say 
there was trouble brewin’ at Wilier Walk, and would 
you see about it as soon as possible.” 

“ Now,” remarked Erb elatedly, “ now you’re 
talking.” 


CHAPTER VI 


The particular blend of trouble which Willow 
Walk was occupied in brewing proved highly at- 
tractive to Erb, and one that gave to all the men 
concerned a taste of the joys that must have come 
in the French Revolution. A few impetuous young 
spirits who had been brooding on grievances since 
the days when they were van boys were responsible. 
Erb recognised that here was the first opportunity 
of justifying his appointment. Warned, however, 
by the example of other organisers within memory, 
who had sometimes in similar experiments shown 
a tendency to excess, Erb took care. He wrote 
letters to the General Manager, letters for which 
he received a printed form of acknowledgment and 
no other, he wrote to the Directors, and received 
a brief reply to the effect that they could not recog- 
nise Mr. Herbert Barnes in the matter, and that 
the grievances of the staff concerned only the staff 
and themselves; the men were bitterly annoyed at 
this, but Erb, because he had anticipated the reply, 
showed no concern. He worked from dawn near 
to dawn again, sending letters to members of Par- 
liament, going round to the depots of other rail- 
ways, attending meetings, and in many ways de- 
voting himself to the work of what he called direct- 


“ERB” 


113 

ing public opinion. In point of fact, he had first 
to create it. For a good fortnight he gave up every- 
thing to devote himself to this one object, gave up 
everything but his lessons in Camberwell. One of 
the Halfpenny evening papers said, amongst other 
things, “ Mr. Herbert Barnes made an impassioned 
but logical and excellently delivered speech.” Erb 
knew the deplorable looking man with a silk hat of 
the early seventies who had reported this, but that 
did not prevent him from being highly gratified 
on seeing the words in print ; Louisa spent eighteen- 
pence on a well-bound manuscript book, and in it 
commenced to paste these notices. The point at 
issue being that the men demanded better payment 
of overtime, Erb found here a subject that lent 
itself to oratorical argument; the story of the man 
who was so seldom at home that one Sunday his 
little girl asked the other parent, “ Mother, who’s 
this strange man ? ” never failed to prove effective, 
and Erb felt justified in leaving out the fact that 
the carman in question was one accustomed, when 
his work finished at night, to go straight from the 
stables to a house in Old Kent Road, where he 
usually remained until the potman cried “ Time ! 
gentlemen, time ! ” 

The men had sent in their ultimatum to the head 
office, and had held their last meeting. The Di- 
rectors had remained adamant on the question of 
receiving Erb as spokesman, and the men, not hav- 
ing an orator of equal power in their ranks, and 
fearful of being worsted in a private interview, had 


“ERB” 


114 

insisted either that Erb should accompany the depu- 
tation or that there should be no deputation at all, 
but only a strike on the following Monday morning. 
(The advanced party protested against the idea of 
giving this formal notice of an unlikely event but 
Erb insisted and the moderates supported him. “If 
we can get what we want,” argued the moderates, 
“ by showing a certain amount of what you may 
call bluff, by all means let us stop at that.”) 

It gave Erb a sensation of power to find that not 
one of these uniformed men in their brass-bound 
caps was strong-minded enough or sufficiently clear 
of intellect to carry out any big scheme by himself ; 
they could only keep of one mind by shoring each 
other up, and he felt that he himself was the one 
steady, upright person who prevented them all from 
slipping. He not only kept them together, but he 
guided them. A suggestion from him on some 
minor point of detail, and they followed as a ship 
obeys the helm ; if any began a remark with doubt- 
ing preface of “ Ah, but — ” the others hushed 
them down and begged them to have some sense. 
Erb had made all his plans for the possible stop of 
work ; the other stations and depots were willing to 
contribute something infinitesimal every week with 
much the same spirit that they would have paid to 
see a wrestling match. All the same, Erb showed 
more confidence than he felt, and when he left the 
men, declining their invitation to drink success to 
the movement (clear to them that Fortune was a 
goddess only to be appeased and gained over by 


“ERB” 


115 

the pouring out of libations of mild and bitter), 
he took cheerfulness from his face, and walked, his 
collar up, along Bermondsey New Road to call for 
his young sister at her workshop. The sellers on 
the kerb appealed to him in vain, a shrill-voiced 
little girl thrust groundsel in his face, and he took 
no notice. Gay bunches of flowers were flourished 
in front of his eyes, and he waved them aside. If 
the men went weak at the knees at the last moment 
it would be deplorable, but it would be an incident 
for which he could not blame himself ; if he him- 
self were to make some blunder in the conduct of 
the negotiations it would be fatal to his career, and 
all other secretaries of all other organisations would 
whisper about it complacently. 

“ Anxious times, my girl,” said Erb to Louisa. 
“ Anxious times. We’ll have a tram-ride down to 
Greenwich and back, and blow dull care away.” 

“ I’ve just finished,” said Louisa in a whisper. 
“ I’ll pop on me hat, Erb, and be with you in ’alf a 
moment.” 

“ What’s become of your voice ? ” 

“ Mislaid it somewhere,” said his young sister 
lightly. “ Can’t think for the life of me where I 
put it last.” 

“ This work’s beginning to affect your chest,” 
said Erb. 

“ Funny thing,” remarked Louisa, with great 
good temper, halfway up the wooden stairs of the 
workshop, “ but my medical man ordered me car- 
riage exercise. Shan’t be two ticks.” 


n6 


“ERB M 


When Louisa returned, stabbing her hat in one 
or two places before gaining what seemed to be a 
satisfactory hold, she was accompanied by giggling 
young women who had been sent by the rest as a 
commission to ascertain whether it was Louisa’s 
own brother or some other girl’s brother who had 
called for her; Louisa’s own statement appearing 
too absurd to have any relationship to truth. More- 
over, presuming it were Louisa’s young man who 
had called for her, it was something of a breach of 
etiquette, as understood by the girls of the work- 
shop, for one young couple to go out alone, the 
minimum number for such an expedition being four, 
in which case they talked not so much to their im- 
mediate companion as to the other half of the 
square party, with whom they communicated by 
shouting. Having ascertained, to their surprise, 
that Louisa had spoken the exact and literal truth, 
they saw the brother and sister off from the door- 
way, warning Louisa to wrap up her neck, and beg- 
ging Erb to smile and think of something pleasant. 

“ Never mind their chaff,” said Louisa, in her 
deep whisper. “I’d a jolly sight rather be going 
out a bit of an excursion with you than I would with 
— well, you know.” 

“ Wish you hadn’t lost your voice,” said Erb, 
with concern. “ I don’t like the sound of it, at all.” 

“ There’s some girls in our place never get it 
back, and after about four or five years of it — 
Don’t cross over here.” 

“ Why not ? ” 


“ERB” 


117 

“ He makes my ’ead ache/’ said Louisa prompt- 
ly. “ I’ve only been going out with him for a fort- 
night, and I know all what he’s going to say as 
though I’d read it in a printed book. He talks 
about the weather first, then about his aunt’s rheu- 
matics, then about the day he had at Brighton when 
he was a kid, then about where he thinks of spend- 
in’ his ’oliday next year, then about how much his 
’oliday cost him last year — ” A mild gust of 
wind came and struck Louisa on the mouth; she 
stopped to cough, holding her hand the while flat 
on her blouse. 

“ Keep your mouth shut, youngster,” advised 
Erb kindly, “ until you’ve got used to the fresh 
air.” 

Because both brother and sister felt that in sail- 
ing down to New Cross Gate on the top of a tram, 
and then along by a line less straight and decided to 
Greenwich they were escaping from worry, they en- 
joyed the evening’s trip. Going through Hatcham, 
Louisa declared that one might be in the country, 
and thereupon, in her own way, declared that they 
were in the country, that she and her brother had 
been left a bit of money, which enabled her to give 
up work at the factory and wear a fresh set of 
cuffs and collars every day: this sudden stroke of 
good fortune also permitted Erb to give up his agi- 
tating rigmarole (the phrase was Louisa’s own, and 
Erb accepted it without protest), and they had both 
settled down somewhere near Epping Forest; Erb, 
as lord of the manor, with the vicar of the parish 


1 1 8 


“ERB” 


church for slave, and Louisa as the generous Lady 
Bountiful, giving blankets and home-made jam to 
all those willing to subscribe to Conservative prin- 
ciples. They had a stroll up the hill to Greenwich 
Park, Lady Louisa forced to go slowly on account 
of some aristocratic paucity of breath, and Sir Her- 
bert, her brother, playing imaginary games of golf 
with a stick and some pebbles, and going round the 
links in eighty-two. At the Chalet near the Black- 
heath side of the park they had tea, Louisa’s insist- 
ence on addressing her brother by a full title aston- 
ishing the demure people at other wooden tables, 
puzzling them greatly, and causing, after depart- 
ure, acrimonious debate between husbands and 
wives, some deciding that Erb and Louisa were 
really superior people and others making reference 
to escapes from Colney Hatch. Louisa, delighted 
with the game of fooling people, darted down the 
hill, with Erb following at a sedate trot ; she stopped 
three parts of the way down, and Erb found her 
leaning against a tree panting with tears in her 
eyes. These tears she brushed away, declaring that 
something had come to her mind that had made her 
laugh exhaustedly, and the two went on more se- 
dately through the open way at the side of the tall 
iron gates, happier in each other’s company than in 
the company of anyone else, and showing this in the 
defiant way with which some people hide real emo- 
tions. 

“ You're a bright companion,” said Louisa sa- 
tirically, as the tram turned with a jerk at the foot 


“ERB” 


119 

of Blackheath Hill. “ You ’aven’t made me laugh 
for quite five minutes. ,, 

“ I’ve been thinking, White Face.” 

“ My face isn’t white,” protested his sister, lean- 
ing back to get a reflection of herself in a draper’s 
window. “ I’ve got quite a colour. Besides, why 
don’t you give up thinking for a bit? You’re al- 
ways at it. I wonder your brail — or whatever you 
like to call it — stands the tax you put on it.” 

“ You’d be a rare old nagger,” said Erb, hook- 
ing the tarpaulin covering carefully and affection- 
ately around his sister, “ if ever anybody had the 
misfortune to marry you. It’d be jor, jor, jor, 
from morning, noon, till night.” 

“ And if ever you was silly enough to get en- 
gaged, Erb. That’s Deptford Station down there,” 
said Louisa, as the tram stopped for a moment’s 
rest. “ I used to know a boy who’s ticket collector 
now. He got so confused the other day when I 
come down here to go to a lecture that he forgot 
to take my ticket.” She laughed out of sheer exul- 
tation at the terrifying powers of her sex. “ Take 
my advice, Erb, don’t you never get married, even 
if you are asked to. Not even if it was young 
Lady Frances.” 

“ Young idiot,” said Erb. “ Think I ever bother 
my head about such matters ? I’ve got much more 
important work in life. This business that I’ve got 
on now ” 

“ Our girls are always asking about you,” said 
Louisa musingly. “ It’s all, * Is he engaged ? ’ 


120 


“ERB” 


‘ Does he walk out with anybody ? ’ 4 Is he a woman 
’ater ? ’ and all such rot.” 

Erb looked down at the traffic that was speed- 
ing at the side of the leisurely tram and gave him- 
self up for a while to the luxury of feeling that he 
had been the subject of this discussion. He thought 
of his young elocution teacher, and wondered 
whether he had arty right to accept this position of 
a misogynist when he knew so well that it was made 
by adverse circumstances and the existence of a 
good-looking youth with an unreliable chin and his 
hair in waves. The driver below whistled aggriev- 
edly at a high load of hops that was coolly occupy- 
ing the tram lines; the load of hops seemed to be 
asleep, and the tram driver had to pull up and whis- 
tle again. In a side road banners were stretched 
across with the word “ Welcome,” signifying thus 
that a church bazaar was being held, where articles 
could be bought at quite six times the amount of 
their real value. A landau, drawn by a pair of con- 
ceited greys, came out of the side street, with a few 
children following and crying, “ Ipipooray ! ” the 
proud horses snorted indignantly to find that they 
were checked by a bucolic waggon and a plebeian 
tram. A young woman with a scarlet parasol in 
the landau looked out over the door rather anx- 
iously. 

“ It's her ladyship,” cried Louisa, clutching 
Erb’s arm. 

“ Good shot,” agreed Erb. 

“ If only she’d look up and recognise us,” said 


“ERB” 


I 2 1 


Louisa. The other people on the tram began to take 
an interest in the encounter, and Louisa’s head al- 
ready trembled with pride. 

“ She wouldn’t recognise us.” 

“ Go on with you,” contradicted his sister. 

Louisa was afflicted with a sudden cough of such 
eccentric timbre that some might have declared it 
to be forced. People on the pavement looked up at 
her surprisedly, and Lady Frances just then closing 
her scarlet parasol, for the use of which, indeed, the 
evening gave but little reason, also glanced up- 
wards. Erb took off his hat and jerked a bow, 
and Louisa noticed that the closed scarlet parasol 
was being waved invitingly. She unhooked the tar- 
paulin cover at once, and, despite Erb’s protestation 
that they had paid fares to the Elephant, hurried 
him down the steps. To Louisa’s great delight, the 
tram, with its absorbedly interested passengers, did 
not move until the two had reached the open lan- 
dau, and Lady Frances’s neatly-gloved hand had 
offered itself in the most friendly way. Louisa de- 
clared later that she would have given all that she 
had in the Post Office Savings Bank to have heard 
the comments of the passengers. 

“ This,” said Lady Frances pleasantly, “ is the 
long arm of coincidence. Step in both of you, 
please, and let me take you home to your place.” 

“ If you don’t mind excusing us — ” began Erb. 

(“ Oh you — you man,” said his sister to herself. 
“ I can’t call you anything else.”) 

“ Please, please,” begged Lady Frances. They 


122 


“E R B •’ 


stepped in. By a great piece of good luck,’ Erb re- 
membered that amongst the recipes and axioms and 
words of advice on the back page of an evening 
paper he had a night or two previously read that 
gentlemen should always ride with their backs to 
the horses, and he took his seat opposite to Lady 
Frances : that young woman, with a touch on 
Louisa’s arm, directed the short girl to be seated at 
her side. 

“ Bricklayers’ Arms Station, Old Kent Road,” 
said Lady Frances. Mr. Danks, in livery, and his 
hair prematurely whitened, had jumped down to 
close the door. Mr. Danks touched his hat, and, 
without emotion, resumed his seat at the side of the 
coachman. “You are keeping well, I hope?” To 
Louisa. 

“ I have been feeling a bit chippy,” said Erb’s 
sister, trying to loll back in the seat, but fearful of 
losing her foothold. 

“So sorry,” said Lady Frances. “And you?” 

“ Thank you,” said Erb, “ middlin’. Can’t say 
more than that. Been somewhat occupied of late 
with various matters.” 

“ I know, I know,” she remarked briskly. “ It is 
that that makes it providential I should have met 
you. My uncle is a director on one of the railways, 
and he was talking about you only last night at 
dinner.” 

“ Very kind of the gentleman. What name, may 
I ask?” Lady Frances gave the information, gave 
also an address, and Erb nodded. “ Me and him 




“ERB” 


123 


are somewhat in opposite camps at the present 
time.” 

“ My uncle was anxious to meet you,” said 
young Lady Frances, in her agreeable way. 

“ Just at this moment I scarcely think ” 

“ Under a flag of truce,” she suggested. “ I 
was going to write to you, but # this will save me 
from troubling you with a note.” 

“ No trouble.” 

“ Fve been opening a bazaar down here,” went 
on Lady Frances with a determined air of vivacity. 
“ The oddest thing. Do you ever go to bazaars ? ” 
“ Can’t say,” said Erb cautiously, “ that I make 
a practice of frequenting them.” 

“ Then let me tell you about this. When you 
open a bazaar you have first to fill your purse with 

gold, empty it, and then ” 

Louisa sat, bolt upright, her feet just touching 
the floor of the carriage, and feeling, as she after- 
wards intimated, disinclined to call the Prince of 
Wales her brother. Her ears listened to Lady 
Frances’s conversation, and she made incoherent re- 
plies when an opinion was demanded, but her eyes 
were alert on one side of the carriage or the other, 
sparkling with anxiety to encounter someone whom 
she knew. Nearly everybody turned to look at 
them, but it was not until they reached the Dun 
Cow at the corner of Rotherhithe New Road (the 
hour being now eight o’clock), at a moment when 
Louisa had begun to tell herself regretfully no one 
would believe her account of this gratifying and 


124 


“ERB M 


epoch-making event, that into Old Kent Road, chas- 
ing each other, came two girls belonging to her fac- 
tory. The foremost dodged behind a piano-organ 
that made a fruitless effort to make its insistent 
jangle heard above the roar and the murmur of 
traffic; seeing her pursuer stand transfixed, with a 
cheerful scream of vengeance half finished, she 
turned her head. At the sight of Louisa bowing 
with a genteel air of half recognition the first girl 
staggered back and sat down helplessly on the han- 
dles of the piano-organ, jerking that instrument of 
music and causing the Italian lady with open bodice 
to remonstrate in the true accents of Clerkenwell. 
When near to Bricklayers’ Arms Station Louisa 
saw again her current young man morbid with the 
thought of a wasted evening, but still waiting hope- 
fully for his fiancee, now three hours behind time; 
the young gentleman’s eyesight being dimmed with 
resentfulness, it became necessary for her to wave a 
handkerchief that might, she knew, have been clean- 
er, and thus engage his attention. At the very last 
possible moment he signalled astonished acknowl- 
edgment. 

For Erb, on the other hand, the journey had 
something less of exultation. From the moment of 
starting from St. James’s Road, Hatcham, the fear 
possessed him that he might be seen by some mem- 
ber of his society, who would thereupon communi- 
cate facts to colleagues. Thus would his character 
for independence find itself bruised : thus would the 
jealousy of the men be aroused; thus would the 


“ERB M 


125 


Spanswick party be able to whisper round the dam- 
aging report that Erb had been nobbled by the capi- 
talists. Wherefore Erb, anxious for none of these 
eventualities, tipped his hat well over his forehead, 
and, leaning forward, with his face down, listened 
to Lady Frances’s conversation. The carriage had 
a scent of refinement ; the young woman opposite in 
her perfect costume was something to be wor- 
shipped respectfully, and he scarce wondered when, 
at one point of the journey up the straight Old 
Kent Road, he heard one loafer say to another, 
“ Where’s there an election on to-day ? ” Lady 
Frances, having completed her account of the ba- 
zaar, had information of great importance to com- 
municate, and this she gave in a confidential under- 
tone that was pleasant and flattering. 

“ From what my uncle says, it appears there is a 
strike threatening, and — you know all about it per- 
haps ? ” 

“ Heard rumours,” said Erb guardedly. 

“ He is anxious that you should call upon him 
at the earliest possible moment to discuss the affair 
privately, but he is most anxious that it should not 
appear that he has sought the meeting. You quite 
see, don’t you ? It’s a question of amour propre.” 

“ Ho ! ” said Erb darkly. 

“ And I should be so glad,” she went on, with 
the excitement of a young diplomatist, “ if I could 
bring you two together. It would be doing so much 
good.” 

“ To him?” 

9 


126 


“ERB” 


“ I could drive you on now/’ she suggested hesi- 
tatingly, “ and we should catch my uncle just after 
his dinner ; an excellent time.” 

“ I think,” said Erb stolidly, “ that we’d better 
let events work out their natural course.” 

“ You’re wrong, quite wrong, believe me. 
Events left alone work out very clumsily at times.” 
Lady Frances touched him lightly on the knee. 
“ Please do me this very small favour.” 

“ Since you put it like that then, I don’t mind 
going up to see him to-night. Not that anything 
will come from it, mind you. Don’t let’s delude 
ourselves into thinking that.” 

“ This,” cried Lady Frances, clapping her 
hands, “ is excellent. This is just what I like to 
be doing.” Erb, still watching fearfully for ac- 
quaintances, glanced at her excited young face, with 
respectful admiration. “ Now, I shall drive you 
straight on ” 

“ If you don’t mind,” said Erb, “ no ; we’ll hop 
out at the corner of Page’s Walk.” 

“ And not drive up to the dwellings ? ” asked 
Louisa disappointed. 

“ And not drive up to the dwellings,” said Erb 
firmly. “ I’ll get on somehow to see your uncle to- 
night.” 

“ You won’t break your word? ” 

“ I should break a lot of other things before I 
did that.” 

Thus it was. Lady Frances shook hands; Erb 
stepped out, looking narrowly through the open 


“ERB” 


127 


gateway of the goods station, and offering assist- 
ance to Louisa absently. As he did so, he saw Wil- 
liam Henry, his old van boy, marching out of the 
gates in a violently new suit of corduroys, and with 
the responsible air of one controlling all the rail- 
ways in the world. 

“ Get better soon,” said Lady Frances to Louisa. 
“ Mr. Barnes, to-night.” Mr. Danks, down from 
his seat and closing the door (Erb and his sister 
standing on the pavement, Erb wondering whether 
he ought to give the footman threepence for him- 
self, and Louisa coming down slowly from heaven 
to earth), Mr. Danks received the order, “Home, 
please.” 

Erb went half an hour later by tram to West- 
minster Bridge and walked across. He perceived 
the necessity for extreme caution ; reading and nat- 
ural wisdom told him that many important schemes 
had been ruined by the interference of woman. He 
looked at the lights that starred the borders of the 
wide river, saw the Terrace where a member of 
Parliament walked up and down, following the red 
glow of a cigar, and he knew that if he were ever 
to get there it would only be by leaping successfully 
over many obstacles similar to the one which at 
present confronted him ; to allow himself to be dis- 
tracted from the straight road of progress would be 
to court disaster. 

“ Boy,” said the porter at the Mansions, “ show 
No. 124A.” In a lift that darted to the skies Erb was 
conveyed and ordered to wait in a corridor whilst 


128 


“ERB n 


Boy, who wore as many buttons as could be crowd- 
ed on his tight jacket, went and hunted for Lady 
Frances’s uncle and presently ran him to earth in 
the smoking room, bringing him out triumphantly 
to the corridor. Erb found himself greeted with 
considerable heartiness, invited to come into the 
smoking room that looked down at a height sug- 
gesting vertigo at St. James’s Park, taken to a 
corner, and furnished with a big cigar. Men in 
evening dress, with the self-confidence that comes 
after an adequate meal, were telling each other what 
they would do were they Prime Minister, and Erb 
was surprised to hear the drastic measures pro- 
posed for stamping out opposition; some of these 
seemed to be scarcely within the limits of reason. 
And what had Erb to say? A plain man, said 
Lady Frances’s uncle of himself (which, in one re- 
spect at any rate, was a statement bearing the in- 
delible stamp of truth), always of opinion that it was 
well to plunge in medias res. On Erb replying that 
at present he had no remark to offer, the purple- 
faced Director seemed taken aback, and diverted 
the conversation for a time to Trichinopolies and 
how best to keep them, a subject on which Erb was 
unable to speak with any pretence of authority. 

“ A little whiskey ? ” suggested the Director, 
with his thumb on the electric bell, “ just to keep 
one alive.” 

Lady Frances’s uncle sighed on receiving Erb’s 
reply, and proceeded to relate a long and not very 
interesting anecdote concerning an attempt that had 


“ERB” 


129 


once been made to swindle him by an hotel pro- 
prietor at Cairo, and the courageous way in which 
he had resisted the overcharge. On Erb looking 
at his silver watch, the colour of the Director’s face, 
from sheer anxiety deepened, and he waved into 
the discussion with a “ Pall Mall Gazette ” a silent 
friend who had been sitting in a low easy chair, 
with hands clasped over his capacious dress waist- 
coat, gazing at the room with the fixed stare of 
repletion. The silent friend craned himself into an 
upright position and lumbered across the room to 
the window. The Director, thus usefully rein- 
forced, proceeded to open the affair of the impend- 
ing strike, and, having done this, urged that there 
never was a difficulty yet that had not a way out, 
and demanded that Erb should show this way out 
instantly. Erb suggested that the Director’s col- 
leagues should receive him and the men, listen to 
their arguments, and concede their requests, or 
some of them. Director, appealing for the support 
of the silent man, but receiving none, replied ex- 
plosively, “ That be hanged for a tale ! ” On which 
Erb remarked that he had some distance to go, and 
if the Director would excuse him — Director said, 
fervently, “ For goodness gracious’ sake, let us sit 
down, and let us thresh this matter out.” Giving 
up now his original idea of an exit, he remarked 
that a golden bridge must be built. Why should 
not Erb simply stand aside, and let the men alone 
seek consultation with the Directors ? Erb declared 
that he would do this like one o’clock (intimating 


130 


“ERB” 


thus prompt and definite action), providing there 
was good likelihood of the men’s requests being 
complied with. Director, looking at silent friend, 
and trying to catch that gentleman’s lack lustre eye, 
inquired how on earth he could pledge his col- 
leagues. Erb, now interested in the game, sug- 
gested that Lady Frances’s uncle probably had 
some idea of the feelings entertained by his fellow 
directors, and the host, giving up all efforts to get 
help from his silent friend, admitted that there was 
something in this. Pressed by Erb to speak as man 
to man, Director gave the limits of concession that 
had been decided upon — limits which would not, 
however, come within sight unless the men came 
alone, and quite alone, to plead their cause. Erb 
thought for a few moments, the glare of the silent 
friend now directed upon him, and then said that 
he would take Director’s word as the word of a 
gentleman; the men should send a deputation the 
following day in their luncheon hour, and he (Erb) 
would stand aside to watch the result. Director 
offered a hand, and Erb, instinctively rubbing his 
palm on his trousers, took it, and the silent friend 
thereupon suddenly burst into speech (which was 
the last thing of which one would have thought 
him capable) saying huskily, and with pompous 
modesty, that he was very pleased to think that any 
poor efforts of his should have brought about such 
a happy agreement; that it was not the first time, 
and probably would not be the last, that he had 
presided over a meeting of reconciliation, and that 


“ERB” 


131 

his methods were always — if he might say so — tact, 
impartiality, and a desire to hear both sides. 

“ Quite glad to have met you,” said the Direc- 
tor, also gratified in having accomplished something 
that would give him the halo of notoriety at to- 
morrow’s Board meeting. “ You’ll go far. Your 
head is screwed on the right way, my man. Not 
a liqueur? ” 

“ I take partic’lar care it ain’t screwed in any 
other fashion,” said Erb. 

“ Good-bye,” said the Director. 

“ Be good,” said Erb. 


CHAPTER VII 


Erb admitted, at an elocution lesson in Cam- 
berwell, that the settlement of the Willow Walk 
affair had given him a good jerk forward. There 
was always now a quarter of an hour between the 
close of his time and the appearance of the next 
pupil — a quarter of an hour generally occupied by 
a soliloquy from Erb, prefaced by the cue from 
Rosalind. “ Well now, tell me what you’ve been 
doing this week.” She had some of the important 
security that comes to an engaged young woman, 
and Erb, who looked forward to this weekly ex- 
change of confidences, forced himself to ask politely 
after Mr. Lawrence Railton, of the “ Sin’s Reward ” 
Company, and when Rosalind answered (as she usu- 
ally did) with a sigh that Mr. Railton had not writ- 
ten for some time, Erb made excuses for him on 
various grounds, such as that he was probably over- 
occupied with the work of his profession, that a 
man in Mr. Railton’s place had to be here, there 
and everywhere, that it being sometimes the gen- 
tleman’s affectionate habit to scribble a hurried post- 
card to his fiancee on the Sunday journeys, likely 
enough there would be a letter next Monday. On 
this Rosalind would brighten very much, and sing 
cheerful words of praise of Mr. Railton, who occu- 
132 


“ERB” 


*33 


pied, it seemed, a unique and delicate position, in 
that he was much too good for the provinces and 
not quite good enough for town ; nevertheless, 
“ Sin’s Reward ” had booked a week for the Surrey, 
and the young woman’s bright eyes danced at the 
thought of seeing him again. Mr. Railton’s real 
name was Botts, which was held to be unattractive 
as a name on the bills ; his father was a silver chaser 
in Clerkenwell, and it was generally understood 
that Mr. Railton had had to cut off his parents with 
a shilling on the grounds that they insisted on call- 
ing him Sammy. 

Walking home after this fifteen minutes of hap- 
piness, Erb found himself continuing the talk, and 
affecting that Rosalind was tripping along at his 
side : it was in these silent talks that he dared to 
call her “ dear,” thereupon colouring so much that 
passers-by glanced at him curiously; plain-faced 
ladies went on gay with the thought that their fea- 
tures had the power to confuse a stranger. When, 
in these circumstances, he encountered men of 
the society they were sometimes greatly diverted, 
and cried, “ ’Ullo, Erb. Going over a speech, eh, 
Erb?” 

No doubt at this period of Erb’s popularity. 
His unselfish reticence in the Willow Walk affair, 
the commonsense he exhibited in one or two minor 
troubles, the increased polish of the spoken word : 
all these things increased the men’s respect. Also 
they knew that he worked for them day and night : 
he had not developed the swollen head of impor- 


134 


“ERB” 


tance that in secretaries of other societies was nearly 
always a prominent feature. He organised a system 
of benefits on three scales, by which, if you paid in 
twopence a week, you received fifteen shillings a 
week in the case of unjust dismissal ; twelve shillings 
a week for unjust suspension ; and ten shillings a 
week for strike pay. He arranged with a pushful 
solicitor in Camberwell to give legal advice. He 
had written one or two articles concerning the so- 
ciety in weekly penny papers, and in these he had 
taken care not to obtrude his own name or his own 
work. Even Spanswick admitted now that Erb was 
turning out better than he had expected, but Spans- 
wick’s views might have been brightened by the 
fact that Erb was organising a ticket benefit at the 
Surrey on Spanswick’s behalf : this not so much on 
account of any personal misfortune, but because 
Mrs. Spanswick, always a thoughtless, inconsiderate 
woman, had mistakenly chosen a time when Spans- 
wick was temporarily suspended from duty for in- 
sobriety, to present him with twin babies. “ Three,” 
grumbled Spanswick, “ three, I could have under- 
stood. There’d been a bit of money about three. 
But two — ” Spanswick’s friends had promised to 
rally round him, a feat they performed in theory 
only, and Erb had to go elsewhere to find buyers 
of the tickets. Lady Frances had taken a box — a 
fact which modified and chastened Spanswick’s very 
extreme views in regard to what he usually called 
the slave-owning upper classes. Lady Frances had 
done a kinder thing than this. On one of her visits 


“ERB” 


J 35 


to Bermondsey she had met Louisa, white-faced and 
twitching as a result of her work, had gone to 
Louisa’s employer, and had made him shake in his 
very shoes by denouncing him and all his works, 
had demanded for Louisa a fortnight’s holiday, 
which the employer, anxious enough to conciliate 
this emphatic young titled person, and fearful of 
being sent to the Tower, at once conceded ; sent 
Louisa, with sister Alice for company, away to the 
country house at Penshurst where the better side 
of Alice’s nature detached itself, and she became an 
attentive nurse. Erb’s Aunt Emma lived at Pens- 
hurst : the old lady went up high in the estimation 
of the other villagers by reason of her nieces’ visit 
to the Court. 

The month being July, work well in demand 
and overtime to be had without asking, Erb was 
able to obtain consent to almost any project that 
he liked to submit to his committee. The society 
was new enough to feel the enthusiasm of youth; 
the men were pleased with the sensation of power 
that it gave to them, and they assumed there were 
no limits to its possibilities. From which causes 
Erb had several irons heating in the fire, of which 
one was a new paper to be called “ The Carman,” 
to be issued twice a month, and to cost one half- 
penny per copy. The expense of production would 
be something more than this, but when Erb, who 
was to be managing editor, used that blessed word 
“ propaganda,” there was nothing more to be said, 
and the last doubter gave in. 


136 


“ERB” 


It was at this time that Erb gave up whistling 
in the streets. 

The white-haired labour member had taken him 
to the House on two occasions, and in the smoking 
room had introduced him to some wealthy members 
of the party; and, whilst the board at the side 
showed the names of unattractive speakers, the 
members chatted so agreeably that Erb forgot him- 
self occasionally and addressed one who was in 
evening dress, and had so much money that he wore 
several coins on his watch chain, as “ Sir ; ” lifting 
of eyebrows on the part of the labour member told 
him he had blundered. Members asked questions 
of Erb, questions which betrayed the fact that their 
knowledge of the real feelings of the working men 
was superficial, and thenceforth Erb felt more at his 
ease. They gave their names as patrons of the 
Spanswick benefit, and the member who wore coins 
offered Erb a cigarette, and, seeing him through the 
outer lobby, begged him to drop a line should any- 
thing important occur; this in a way that sug- 
gested later to Erb, as he crossed Westminster, that 
the coin member wanted to find opportunity of be- 
coming attached to some creditable grievance, not 
so much for the sake of the grievance as for the 
sake of himself. 

“ Now,” said Erb definitely to the fringe of 
lights near St. Thomas’s Hospital, “ I’m not going 
to be made a cat’s paw, mind you.” 

Interest came with the arrangements for Spans- 
wick’s benefit. This necessitated calls at the theatre 


“ERB” 


i37 


near the Obelisk in the evenings, and speech with 
excited men who went about behind the scenes with 
their hats at the backs of their heads : men who 
were for ever mislaying letters and documents, and 
complaining of everybody else’s carelessness, and 
eventually finding the letters or documents in their 
own hands; the while on the stage some lady in 
black, with her face whitened, was bewailing to a 
keenly interested house the perfidy of man, and as- 
suring the gallery of her determination to track 
down one particular individual, though he should 
have made his way to the uttermost ends of the 
earth. The Spanswick night was to be a ticket 
benefit (which, being interpreted, meant that only 
the tickets sold outside the theatre would add to 
Spanswick’s income and assuage his present dis- 
tress), and the night selected was a Friday in the 
week booked by the “ Sin’s Reward ” Company — 
Friday, because that was near to the men’s pay day, 
and would hook them at the fleeting moment when 
spare cash was on the very point of burning a hole 
in their pockets. Because Lawrence Railton was of 
the company, and because Erb was responsible for 
the success of the evening, Rosalind communicated 
to the scheme the keen interest that became her so 
well; her father, with ponderous generosity, had 
promised to ensure a triumphant evening by giving 
what he termed the considerable advantage of a 
somewhat long and not altogether undistinguished 
experience. Erb was anxious to see Lawrence 
Railton, desirous of seeing what manner of youth 


“ER B” 


138 

had succeeded where he had desired to do so. Mat- 
ters being as they were, there was no alternative but 
to play the friend of the family, to meet Mr. Rail- 
ton with the outstretched hand of amity, to congrat- 
ulate him, and to save up presently for a wedding 
present which should represent nicely a genial in- 
terest in the welfare of the young couple. A plated 
cruet-stand he thought, as at present advised, but 
there were arguments in favour of an inkstand that 
looked like a lawn-tennis set — an inkstand had a 
suggestion of literary tastes that appealed to the pro- 
spective editor of “ The Carman ; ” it suggested also 
a compliment to Rosalind that a cruet-stand with 
the best intentions could never convey. He did 
not quite know how he would endure it all. Per- 
haps it would best be remedied by increased applica- 
tion to the work of the society, and if ever the day 
should come when he found himself elected to a 
seat in that House at Westminster (the outside of 
which he went to see very often, just for self-en- 
couragement), Rosalind would feel that she might 
have done better than marry Mr. Lawrence Rail- 
ton. 

“ But I don’t quite see,” admitted Erb, as he 
wrestled with all this, “ I don’t quite see what sort 
of help I shall get out of that ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


At the Obelisk streets radiate, and the trams 
going to London have to make their choice. The 
theatre in the road that leads to Blackfriars Bridge 
is a theatre of middle age, with its own opinion of 
the many juvenile competitors that have sprung 
up during recent years in near and in distant sub- 
urbs: it endeavours to preserve the semblance of 
youth and modernity by putting on four white 
globes of electric light, but its age is betrayed by a 
dozen women with aprons full of oranges, “ Two 
a punny, a punny for two ” (oranges are not eaten 
in the new theatres), and a tray on high trestles 
loaded with pigs’ trotters, which no one ever buys. 
Some steps go up to the shilling and the sixpenny 
seats ; early doors, which exact from the over-anx- 
ious an additional threepence, are in a dark alley at 
the side, at the end of which is a door that leads 
to the box-office by day and the stage entrance by 
night. The outside of the house has coloured post- 
ers of grisly scenes that make the passer-by chill 
with fear: a yellow woman hurled down a blue 
precipice ; the same lady bound by cords to a grand- 
father’s clock, which shows the hour as three min- 
utes to twelve, and facing her two crape masked 
men with pistols ; underneath the horrid words, “ At 

139 


140 


“ERB” 


midnight, my lady, you die.” A pleasanter note in 
the frames of photographs that hang slightly 
askew. Here, Mr. Lawrence Railton as a wicked 
Italian (at any rate, his moustache turns upwards, 
as Gratiano in a third-hand costume of the Louis 
the Fifteenth period, as Inspector Beagle in “ Track- 
ing the Criminal,” and in as many more characters 
as the frame will carry). In the centre, Mr. Law- 
rence Railton as the art of the photographer would 
have him be in real life, evening dress, insufficient 
chin, contemptuous smile — the portrait which occu- 
pied the position of honour on Rosalind’s mantel- 
piece. 

A conspicuous evening for Erb, by reason of the 
circumstance that he had the honour of conveying 
Rosalind to the theatre ; this because her father, 
having borrowed individual shillings on individual 
days from her on the promise of accompanying her 
had, at the last moment, come into a windfall of two 
and threepence, and had thereupon remembered an 
urgent appointment with a dramatist of note at a 
publichouse just off the Strand. “ Should the fates 
be kind,” said Rosalind’s father, “ I shall endeavour 
to honour the performance with my presence later 
on.” Louisa, interested in everything that inter- 
ested Erb, had organised a raffle at her factory for 
a circle ticket, and a chapel-going girl, who had 
picked the highest number out of a straw hat ac- 
companied her, with the full anticipation — this be- 
ing her first visit to the play — that she was about 
to witness scenes that might well imperil her future 


“ERB” 


141 

existence ; unwilling, all the same, to give her prize 
away or to sell. Erb, confronted with the responsi- 
bility of transporting three ladies, had vague ideas 
of a four-wheeler, but remembered in time that this 
would excite criticism from members ever anxious 
to detect and crush any effort he might make to 
commit the unpardonable sin of “ putting on 
side ; ” compensation came in being allowed to walk 
by the side of Rosalind, who, near Camberwell Gate, 
seemed to be dressed prettily but with restraint, but 
who, as they approached the Elephant and Castle, 
increased in smartness by contrast with the sur- 
roundings of Walworth Road. There were cross- 
ings to be managed, and Erb, in the most artful 
way, assisted her here by insinuating his arm under- 
neath her cape, wondering at his own courage, and 
rather astonished to find that he was not reproved. 
Rosalind’s manner differed from that of other 
young women of the district in that she dispensed 
with the defiant attitude which they assumed, never 
to be varied from the first introduction to the last 
farewell. 

“ And now the question is,” said Louisa’s col- 
league, “ ought I to go in or ought I to stay out- 
side?” 

“ Considering you’ve got a ticket,” replied 
little Louisa satirically, “ it seems a pity to go 
in. Why not stay outside and ’ave an orange in- 
stead?” 

“ Oh,” said the chapel-goer recklessly, “ now 
I’m here I may jest as well go on with it. In for 
10 


142 


“ERB” 


a penny in for a pound. If the worst comes to the 
worst, I can shut me eyes and — Who’s that lifting 
his cap to you ? ” 

“ ’Ullo,” remarked Louisa, “ you alive still ? ” 

The lad threw away the end of his cigarette, 
and, advancing, remarked in a bass voice that he 
had thought it as well to come up on the off chance 
of meeting Louisa. 

“ My present young man,” said Louisa, intro- 
ducing the lad. 

“ Well,” said the chapel young woman resign- 
edly, “ this is the beginning of it.” 

Erb, again assisting, took Rosalind up the broad 
stone staircase ; swing doors permitted them to go 
into the warm, talkative theatre. A few shouts of 
recognition were raised from various quarters as 
Erb went in, and he nodded his head in return, but 
he looked sternly at the direction whence a cry 
Came of “ Is that the missus, Erb ? ” and the chaffing 
question was not repeated. Down near the stage 
the orchestra made discordant sounds, the cornet 
blew a few notes of a frivolous air for practice. 
Erb bought a programme for Rosalind, and asked if 
anything else was required; but Rosalind, from a 
satin bag which hung from her wrist, produced a 
pair of early Victorian opera glasses, bearing an 
inscription addressed to her mother, “ From a few 
Gallery Boys,” and said, “ No, thank you,” with a 
smile that made his head spin round. 

“ But would you mind,” she flushed as she 
leaned forward to whisper this, “ would you mind 


“ERB” 


M3 


telling Mr. Railton that I — I should very much like 
to see him after the show ? ” 

At the stage door a postman had just called, and 
Erb, waiting for permission to go in whilst the 
door-keeper sorted the letters, could not help notic- 
ing that a violet envelope, in a feminine handwrit- 
ing, was placed under the clip marked R ; it was ad- 
dressed to Lawrence Railton, Esquire. The door- 
keeper gave permission with a jerk of the head, 
as though preferring not to compromise himself 
by speech, and Erb went up through the narrow 
corridor where the office and the dressing-rooms 
were situated. Cards were pinned on the door of 
the latter, and one of them bore, in eccentric type, 
the name of the gentleman for whom Rosalind had 
given him the message. A lady's head came out 
cautiously from one of the other rooms and called 
in a shrill voice, “ Mag-gie ! ” A middle-aged wom- 
an flew from somewhere in reply with a pair of 
shoes. Below, the orchestra started the overture of 
an elderly comic opera ; a boy, in a cap, came along 
the corridor shouting, “ Beginners, please ! ” 

“ She got in everything for the entire week," 
said a triumphant voice inside the room, “ settled 
for my washing, cashed up for every blessed thing, 
and I’ve never paid the old girl a sou from that day 
to this. Hullo ! what’s blown this in ? ’’ 

Two young men in the small room, and each 
making-up in front of a looking-glass ; before them 
open tin cases, powder puffs, sticks of grease paint ; 
bits of linen of many colours. On the walls previ- 


144 


“ERB” 


ous occupiers had drawn rough caricatures: here 
and there someone had stuck an applauding news- 
paper notice, or a butterfly advertisement. Neither 
of the young men looked round as Erb came in, but 
each viewed his reflection in the looking-glass. 

“ Name of Railton?” said Erb, inquiringly. 

“ That’s me,” replied one of the two, still gazing 
into his looking-glass. 

“ My name’s Barnes. I’m secretary to the 
R.C.A.S.” 

“ Any connection with the press ? ” asked Mr. 
Railton, fixing a white whisker at the side of his 
floridly made-up face. 

“ Not at present ! ” 

“ Then what the devil do you mean,” demanded 
the other hotly, “ by forcing your way into the room 
of two professional men? What ” 

“ Yes,” said the man at the other glass, taking 
up a hand-mirror to examine the back of his head, 
“what the deuce next, I wonder? For two pins 
I’d take him by the scruff of his neck and pitch him 
downstairs.” He glanced at Erb, and added rather 
hastily to Mr. Railton : “ If I were you.” 

“ I shall most certainly complain to the manage- 
ment,” went on Mr. Railton. “ It isn’t the first 
time.” 

“ I don’t know,” said his companion, “ what they 
think the profession’s made of. Because we allow 
ourselves to be treated like a flock of sheep they 
seem to think they can do just what they damn well 
please.” 


“ERB” 


*45 


“ I’ve a precious good mind, ,, said Mr. Railton, 
vehemently, “ to hand in my notice. Would, too, if 
it wasn’t for the sake of the rest of the crowd.” 

He ceased for a second, whilst he made lines 
down either side of his mouth, falling back from 
the mirror to consider the effect. 

“ Quite finished ? ” asked Erb, good humoured- 
ly. “ If so, I should like to tell you, my fiery-tem- 
pered warriors, that I have only called with a mes- 
sage from Miss Danks — Miss Rosalind Danks.” 

“ That’s one of yours, Lorrie ! ” 

“ You mean,” said Mr. Railton casually, as he 
toned down a line with the powder-puff, “ a dot and 
carry one girl ? ” 

“ Miss Danks,” said Erb, “ is the leastest bit 
lame.” He repeated precisely the message which 
Rosalind had given him, and Mr. Railton clicked 
his tongue to intimate impatience. “ I’ll call in again 
later on,” said Erb, “ when you’ve finished your lit- 
tle bit, and then I can take you round to where she’s 
sitting.” 

“ Now, why in the world,” cried Mr. Railton, 
throwing a hairbrush on the floor violently, “ why 
in the world can’t people mind their own business? 
There’s a class of persons going about on this earth, 
my dear Chippy ” 

“ I know what you are going to say,” remarked 
the other approvingly. 

“ And if I had my will I’d hang the whole shoot 
of them. I would, honestly.” 

“ I quite believe you would,” said Chippy. 


146 


“ERB H 


“ And I’d draw and quarter them afterwards.” 

“ And then burn ’em,” suggested Chippy. 

“ And then burn ’em.” 

“ Would you amiable gentlemen like to have the 
door closed ? ” asked Erb. 

“ Put yourself outside first,” recommended Mr. 
Railton. 

The stage and its eccentricities attracted Erb as 
they attract everyone, and, a licensed person for the 
evening, he went about through the feverish atmos- 
phere, meeting people who appeared ridiculous as 
they stood at the side of the stage waiting to go on, 
but who, as he knew, would look more life-like than 
life with the footlights intervening. Pimple-faced 
men, in tweed caps, hidden from the audience, held 
up unreliable trees ; kept a hand on a ladder, which 
enabled the leading lady to go up and speak to her 
lover from the casemented upper window of a cot- 
tage; ran against each other at every fair oppor- 
tunity, complaining in hoarse whispers of clumsi- 
ness. A boy came holding clusters of shining pew- 
ter cans by the handles, and peace was restored 
amongst the stage hands, but for the folk in evening 
dress, with unnatural eyes and amazing faces, who 
stood about ready to go on, there remained the 
strain of excitement; some of them soliloquised in 
a corner, whilst others talked in extravagant terms 
of dispraise concerning the new leading lady, hint- 
ing that no doubt she was a very good girl and kind 
to her mother, but that she could not act, my dear 
old boy, for nuts, or for toffee, or for apples, or 


“ERB” 


i47 


other rewards of a moderate nature. These seemed 
to be only their private views, for they were dis- 
carded when the leading lady came down the ladder, 
and they then gathered round her and told her that 
she was playing for all she was worth, that she had 
managed to extract more from that one scene than 
her predecessor had obtained from the entire play, 
and hinting quite plainly that it was a dear and a 
precious privilege to be playing in the same com- 
pany with her. Mr. Lawrence Railton brought for 
the leading lady a wooden chair; a middle-aged 
bird (who was her dresser) hopped forward bring- 
ing a woollen shawl, that had started by being white 
and still showed some traces of its original inten- 
tion, to place around her shoulders. 

“ I don’t know,” said Mr. Railton, stretching his 
arms, when, having been ousted from attendance by 
others, he had strolled up towards Erb, “ I don’t 
feel much like acting to-night ! ” 

“ Do you ever ? ” asked Erb. 

“ It’s wonderful;” went on the young man, 
“ simply and absolutely wonderful the different 
moods that one goes through, and the effect they 
have on one’s performance. I go on giving much 
the same rendering of a part for several nights on 
end, and, suddenly, I seem to get a flash of inspira- 
tion.” 

“ Better language ! ” recommended Erb. 

“A flash of inspiration,” said the white whis- 
kered young man with perfect confidence, and keep- 
ing his eye on the stage. “ It all comes in a moment 


“ERB” 


148 

as it were. And then, by Jove! one can fairly elec- 
trify an audience. One sees the house absolutely 
rise.” 

“ And go out? ” asked Erb. 

On the stage the leading man (who was an hon- 
est gentleman farmer, showing the gentleman by 
wearing patent boots, and the farmer by carrying 
a hunting crop), cried aloud demanding of misfor- 
tune whether she had finished her fell conspiracy 
against him, and this, it appeared, was the cue for 
Lawrence Railton in his white whiskers and frock- 
coated suit and a brown hand-bag to go on with 
the announcement that he had come to foreclose a 
mortgage, information which the house, knowing 
vaguely that it boded no good to the hero, received 
with groans and hisses. Erb, watching from the 
side, prepared for an exhibition of superior acting 
on the part of Mr. Railton, and was somewhat as- 
tonished to find that, instead of playing a part that 
forwarded the action of the piece, he was a mere 
butt sent on in order to be kicked off, treatment 
served out to him by an honest labourer, faithful 
to his master and with considerable humour in his 
disposition. Any expectations that Railton would 
take a more serious part in the melodrama were set 
aside, in a later scene of Act I., when the hero and 
the faithful young labourer had both enlisted in a 
crack cavalry regiment, he came on with his brown 
bag to find them and give information of impor- 
tance, and was at once, to the great joy of the pit 
and gallery, again kicked off, whilst the regiment, 


“ER B” 


149 


consisting of eight men and a girl officer, marched 
round the stage several times to a military air, and, 
after the girl officer had delivered a few sentences 
of admirable patriotism, went off to the Royal Al- 
bert Docks to take ship for South Africa. Indeed, 
throughout the piece it was Mr. Railton’s privilege 
to follow the leading man and his low comedy friend, 
and whether he encountered them on the quay at 
Cape Town, out on the veldt near Modder River, 
or at the Rhodes Club at Kimberley, he was ever 
hailed by the entire theatre with joyous cries of 
“ Kick him, kick him ! ” advice upon which the low 
comedy man always acted. 

“ D’you like your job ? ” asked Erb at the end 
of Act II., as he prepared to go round to the front 
and collect the men of his committee. 

“ Someone must hold the piece together,” said 
young Railton, wearily making a cigarette. “ Take 
me away, and the entire show falls to pieces. Even 
you must have noticed that.” 

“ Upon my word,” said Erb, looking at him 
wonderingly, “ you are a perfect marvel. I never 
saw anything like you.” 

“ Thanks, old chap,” replied the other grate- 
fully, and shaking his hand. “ Meet me after the 
show and we’ll have a drink together. I was afraid 
at first you were a bit of a bounder. Don’t mind 
me saying so now, do you ? ” 

“ Not at all,” replied Erb. “ You gave me much 
the same impression.” 

“ That’s most extr’ordinary. There’s an idea for 


“ERB n 


i5° 

a curtain-raiser in that. Two men beginning by 
hating each other, and later on ” 

“ Any message for your young lady ? ” 

“ Which ? ” asked Mr. Railton. 

“ You know very well who I mean,” said Erb 
with some annoyance. 

“ Oh,” with sudden enlightenment, “ you mean 
the Danks person. Oh, tell her I’m all right.” 

Erb looked at him rather dangerously, but the 
young man, secure in the mailed armour of self- 
content, did not observe this. Erb, placing his 
doubled fists well down into the pockets of his coat, 
turned and went off. 

“ By the bye,” called Mr. Railton, in his affected 
voice. 

Erb did not trust himself to answer, but went 
down the narrow stone passage, and drew a deep 
breath when he reached the doorway and the dimly 
lighted alley; he had work to do, and this, as al- 
ways, enabled him to forget his personal grievances. 
In the saloon bar of a neighbouring public-house 
he found two members of his committee : because 
they wore their Sunday clothes they smoked cigars, 
extinguishing them carefully, and placing the ends 
in their waistcoat pockets ; they came out on Erb’s 
orders to take up position at the stage door. The 
others were in front of the house, and Erb, going 
in and standing by the swing door of the circle, dis- 
covered them one by one and gave them signal to 
come out, which they did with great importance, step- 
ping on toes of mere ordinary people in a lordly way. 


“ERB” 


iSi 

“ Did he send any message ? ” asked Rosalind 
anxiously. 

“ Sent his love.” Worth saying this to see the 
quick look of relief and happiness that danced across 
her face. “ Said he was looking forward to seeing 
you.” 

“ Ah ! ” 

Three minutes later, when the leading man had 
done something noble that in the proclaimed opin- 
ion of the heroine (there, oddly enough, as a nurse) 
foreshadowed the inevitable Victoria Cross, and Mr. 
Railton had come on in a kilt to be kicked off once 
more, and there remained only the affairs of Eng- 
land, home, and beauty to be arranged in the last 
act ; the curtain went down, and two minutes later 
still, the orchestra having disappeared in search of 
refreshment and the audience occupied in cracking 
nuts and hailing acquaintances with great trouble 
at distant points, the curtain went up again on a 
flapping scene, behind which the tweed-capped men, 
it appeared, were setting an elaborate set for Act 
IV., doing it with some audible argument and no 
little open condemnation of each other's want of 
dexterity. Chairs on the stage stood in a semi- 
circle, and marching on from the left came the dozen 
members of the committee in their suits of black, 
twirling bowler hats, and glancing nervously across 
the footlights in response to the ejaculatory shouting 
of names. Spanswick, wearing a look of pained 
resignation, received a special shout, but the loudest 
cheers were reserved for the secretary, and those 


152 


“ERB” 


in front who did not know him soon took up the 
cry. 

“ Erberberberb ” 

It became certain at once that Payne was not 
to give an epoch-making speech. Confused perhaps 
by the footlights, uncertain of the attitude of this 
great crowded theatre, Payne’s memory ran its head 
against a brick wall and stayed there : he made 
three repetitions of one sentence, and then, having 
reversed the positions of the tumbler and the de- 
canter, started afresh, the audience encouraging him 
by cries of “ Fetch him out, Towser, fetch him out,” 
as though Mr. Payne were an unwilling dog, but 
the same brick wall stood in his way, and, concluding 
weakly with the remark, “ Well, you all know what 
I mean,” he called upon Erb, and sat down glanc- 
ing nervously across to the pit stalls, where was 
Mrs. Payne, her head shaking desolately, her lips 
moving with unspoken words of derision. 

“ I’m going to take five minutes,” said Erb, in 
his distinct and deliberate way. He took out his 
watch and laid it on the table. “ Even if I’m in 
the middle of a sentence when that time is up, I 
promise I’ll go down like a shot. I suppose you 
know the story of the man who ” 

Good temper smiled and laughed from the front 
row of the pit stalls and up to the very topmost 
row of the gallery at Erb’s anecdote, and, hoping 
for another story, they sat forward and listened. 
He knew that he held them now, knew they would 
cheer anything he liked to say, providing he said it 


“ERB” 


*53 


with enough of emphasis. He went on quickly that 
this advantage might not be lost, pounding the palm 
of one hand with the fist of the other, so that the 
dullest might know by this gesture when a point 
was intended ; spoke of the good feeling that was 
aroused by the presence of a fellow-man’s misfor- 
tune ; mentioned the work of his own society, urged 
that so long as this feeling of comradeship existed, 
so long would their condition improve, not perhaps 
by a leap or a bound, but by steady, cautious, and 
gradual progression. Up in the circle his young 
elocution teacher nodded approvingly, flushing with 
pride at her pupil’s careful enunciation, giving a 
start of pain at a superfluous aspirate that cleaved 
the air. 

“ He can talk,” admitted a man behind her. 

“ If I’d had the gift of the gab,” said the man’s 
neighbour, “ I could have made a fortune.” 

Erb stepped out near to the footlights and gave 
his peroration in an impassioned manner that had 
the useful note of sincerity. Those in the theatre, 
who were sympathisers, rose and cheered like a hur- 
ricane ; the rest, not to be left out of a gratifying 
show of emotion, joined in, and Spanswick, the 
hero of the evening, as he rose from his chair to 
say a few words, might have been a leading poli- 
tician, a general who had rescued his country from 
difficulties, or an exceptionally popular member of 
the Royal Family, instead of a railway carman of 
third-rate excellence with a notable wife. 

Spanswick said this was the proudest moment 


154 


U ERB” 


of his life. Spanswick would never forget that 
night: useless for anybody to ask him to do so. 
If people should come to Spanswick and invite him 
to erase that evening from his recollection, he would 
answer definitely and decidedly, “Never!” So 
long as memory lasted and held its sway, so long 
would he guarantee to keep that evening in mind, 
and carry remembrance with him. Thus Spanswick, 
in a generous way that suggested he was doing a 
noble and spontaneous act, and one for which the 
audience should be everlastingly grateful. Payne, 
as Chairman, rose, and ignoring a suggestion from 
the gallery that he should dance a hornpipe, led the 
group off, the members looking shyly across at the 
audience, and the audience howling indignantly at 
one of the men who replaced his hat before get- 
ting off. 

“Were you nervous, Erb?” asked Louisa ex- 
citedly. “ I was. Nearly fainted, didn't I ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t talk,” whispered her ladv-compan- 
ion, enchanted by the commencement of Act Four. 
“ Don’t talk, please, when there’s such beautiful 
things going on.” 

Mr. Railton had nothing to do in the last act, 
the dramatist having apparently felt that the thin 
vein of humour which had been struck in the char- 
acter was by this time exhausted, and Rosalind 
looked with anxiety at the curtained doorway of the 
circle, but Mr. Railton did not appear during the 
last act, and he was not in the vestibule below 
when the audience poured out into Blackfriars Road. 


“ERB” 


i55 


She was very silent on this, and when Erb saw her 
into a tram she shook hands without a word. Going 
back to assist Louisa’s young man in the task of 
escorting the two other ladies, he found himself in- 
tercepted by Mr. Lawrence Railton — Railton, in an 
astrachan bordered coat, and well wrapped around 
the throat, giving altogether the impression that 
here was some rare and valuable product of nature 
that had to be specially protected. 

“ I want you ! ” said the young man. 

“ You’ll have to want,” said Erb brusquely, and 
going on. 

“ But it concerns the girl you were speaking 
of.” 

“ Where can we go ? ” asked Erb, stopping. 

“ Come round to the bar at the back of the 
circle,” said Railton, “ and you can give me a drink,” 
he added generously. 

A few members of the company were near the 
bar, and Railton, to compensate for the presence 
of such an ordinary-looking companion, began to 
talk loudly and condescendingly. Never drank till 
after the show, he explained, some drank during 
the performance, but none of the best men did so. 
One could not give a good reading of the part un- 
less one observed the principles of strict abstemious- 
ness. He flattered himself that he was not one 
likely to make mistakes, and he held his future, as 
it were, well and securely in both hands. If Erb 
would promise not to let the matter go any further, 
he would show him, in the strictest confidence, a 


“ERB M 


156 

letter from a West End manager, that would prove 
how near one could be to conspicuous success. 

“ Not that one,” he said, opening a violet en- 
velope. “ That’s from a dear thing at Skipton. 
Worships the very ground I walk on.” 

The letter in question fell on the floor. Erb 
picked it up and, in doing so, could not help notic- 
ing that it began : “ Sir, unless you forward two and 
eight by return, the parcel of laundry will be sold 
without ” 

“ Here it is,” cried Railton. “ ‘ Mr. So-and-so 
thanks Mr. Lawrence Railton for his note, and re- 
grets that the arrangements for the forthcoming 
production are complete.’ ” “ Regrets, you see, 

mark that ! A post earlier, and evidently he would 
have — don’t drown it, my dear chap ! ” 

“ In regard,” said Erb, putting down the water- 
bottle, “ to Miss Rosalind Danks.” 

“ I hadn’t finished what I was saying.” 

“ Didn’t mean you should. Let’s drop your per- 
sonal grievances for a bit. Why didn’t you come 
round and see her before she left ? ” 

“ Now that,” said Railton, leaning an elbow on 
the counter, “ goes straight to the very crux of the 
question. That’s just where I wanted to carry you. 
I hate a man who wastes time on preliminaries. My 
idea always is that if you’ve got a thing to say, 
say it ! ” 

“ Well then, say it!” 

“ My position,” said Railton, importantly, “ is 
this. I have, as I think I said, the artistic tempera- 


“ERB” 


i57 


ment. I am all emotion, all sentiment, all heart! 
It may be a virtue, it may be a defect ; I won’t go 
into that. The point is that little Rosie is the exact 
opposite. I confess that I thought at one time that 
we might be well suited to each other, but I see 
now that I made a mistake. Doesn’t often happen, 
but I did make a mistake there, and the unfortu- 
nate part of the business is that I — in a kind of way, 
don’t you know — promised to marry her.” 

“ So I understood. When does the affair come 
off?” 

“ My dear old chap,” said Railton, with effusive 
confidence, “ the affair is off. But you know what 
women are, and I find it rather difficult — for, mind 
you, I am above all things a man of honour — I find 
it rather difficult to write to her and tell her so. 
Some men wouldn’t hesitate for a moment. Some 
men have no delicacy. But what I thought was 
this : Do you want to earn a couple of pounds ? ” 

“ Go on ! ” said Erb, quietly. 

“ Assuming that you do want to earn a couple 
of pounds, this is where you come in. You, I gain, 
have a certain admiration for her. Now, if you 
can take her off my hands so that I can get out 
of the engagement with dignity, I am prepared to 

give you, in writing mind, a promise to pay ” 

Mr. Railton went down swiftly on the floor. The 
other people hurried up. 

“ You dare strike me ! ” he cried complainingly, 
as he rose his handkerchief to his face. “ Do it 
again, that’s all.” 

11 


“ERB” 


158 


He went down again with the same unexpect- 
edness as before. Three men stood round Erb, 
who looked quietly at his own clenched fist; the 
knuckles had a slight abrasion. 

“ Want any more ? ” he asked. 

Mr. Railton made one or two efforts from his 
crumpled position to speak ; the three men sug- 
gested police, but he waved his hand negatively. 

“ Do you want any more, you scoundrel you ? ” 
repeated Erb. 

“ No,” answered Mr. Lawrence Railton, weak- 
ly, from the linoleum, “ I don’t want any more. 
I always know my limit.” 


CHAPTER IX 


This being a period of his life when Erb could 
do nothing wrong, the unpremeditated experiment 
with fists had a result that seldom attends efforts 
of the kind. Railton sent to Erb by post the fol- 
lowing day an elaborate letter of apology, in which 
he argued that Erb, by a quite excusable error, had 
misunderstood what he (Railton) had intended to 
convey; that he honoured Mr. Barnes for the atti- 
tude he had taken up (which, under similar circum- 
stances, would have been his own), that he should 
of course carry out his engagement with the young 
lady whose name it was unnecessary to mention, 
that he should ever retain an agreeable memory of 
Mr. Barnes (to whose efforts in the cause of labour 
he begged in passing to offer his best wishes), he 
trusted very sincerely that their friendship would 
not be impaired by the unfortunate incident of the 
preceding night. Thus Mr. Railton, with many an 
emphasising underline and note of exclamation, and 
a flourish under the signature, intended to convey 
the impression that here was a document of value to 
be preserved for all time. On Erb discovering his 
elocution teacher — whose lessons he now scarce re- 
quired, but whose services as instructress in the art 
of public oratory he continued for the sheer pleasure 

159 


i6o 


“ERB” 


of listening to her private speech — on Erb discover- 
ing her at his next visit with traces of recent tears 
he insisted on knowing the cause, and was told, first, 
that father had been borrowing seventeen shillings 
and sixpence, which she would have to pay back, 
amount required in order, the Professor had ex- 
plained to the credulous lender, to enable him to 
purchase a comedy which had a part that would fit 
the Professor like a glove (“ I can see myself in 
it,” the Professor declared) ; and on Erb dismissing 
this incident as too common for tears, Rosalind re- 
luctantly showed him a letter from the admirable 
Railton, written by that young gentleman at the 
same time apparently as the communication he had 
sent to Erb : in this he regretted time had not per- 
mitted him to call at Camberwell Gate, the loss was 
his; but what he particularly wanted to say was 
that the farce of their engagement need no longer 
be allowed to run. On neither side, wrote Mr. Rail- 
ton, had there been any real afifection, and he was 
sure that this formal intimation would be as great a 
relief to Rosalind as to himself ; he trusted she 
would find another good fiance, and he was, with all 
regards, her friend and well-wisher, Lawrence Rail- 
ton. Erb, greatly concerned for Rosalind, told her 
nothing of the incident of the benefit performance, 
but tried to comfort her with the suggestion that 
Railton had probably written without thought. 

“ I am beginning to see,” said Rosalind present- 
ly, “ I am beginning to see that I have at least one 
real friend in the world.” 


“ERB” 


161 


“ One's ample,” replied Erb stolidly. 

With the men of the society the occurrence gave 
to Erb distinct promotion. Something to have a 
quick mind with figures, something to be ready of 
speech, something to be always at hand wherever in 
London a railway carman was in trouble, but better 
than all these things was it to be able to think of 
their secretary as one able to put up his fists. 
Wherever he went, for a time, congratulations were 
shouted from the hood of parcels carts or the high 
seat of pair-horse goods vans ; boys hanging by 
ropes at the tail boards giving a cheer as they went 
by. There is nothing quite so dear and precious as 
the world’s applause, and if here and there a man 
should announce his distaste for it, the world may 
be quite sure that this is said only to extort an addi- 
tional and an undue share. At the next committee 
meeting Erb was requested, with a good deal of 
importance, by Payne, as chairman, to be good 
enough to leave the room for ten minutes: on his 
return it was announced to him that, moved by G. 
Spanswick, and seconded by H. R. Bates, a resolu- 
tion had been carried, according to Herbert Barnes, 
secretary, an increase in salary of twenty pounds per 
annum. Erb announced this to his young white- 
faced sister, and added to the announcement an 
order directing her to leave her factory and look 
after the home in Page’s Walk; but Louisa would 
not hear of this, declaring that a hum-drum life 
would never suit her, that she should mope herself 
into a state of lunacy if Erb insisted, and that the 


162 


“ERB” 


money could be laid out much more usefully on, 
first, a pianoforte ; second, a new suite of chairs for 
the sitting room in place of furniture which had 
been in the Barnes family for two generations; 
third, in articles of costume for Erb, and — if any 
sum remained — in something for herself. They 
argued the point with desperate good humour from 
either side of the table, until Erb found that she 
was really in earnest, and then he gave in. 

“ You always have your own way, Louisa.” 

“ Precious little use having anybody else’s,” she 
retorted sharply. 

“ You’ve got a knack of deciding questions,” 
complained her brother, good-temperedly, “ that 
makes you a little debating society in yourself.” 

“ There’s something in connection with your 
society,” went on Louisa, encouraged, “ that you 
might arrange if you’d got any gumption.” 

“ Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that I 
have.” 

“ It’s this. When one of your single chaps gets 
engaged let him begin paying into a wedding fund. 
You’ve got your strike funds and what not, but you 
ain’t got no wedding fund.” 

“We haven’t any wedding fund,” corrected Erb. 

“ Oh, never mind about grammar,” said his 
young sister impetuously, “ I’m talking sense. Let 
them all pay a bob or so a week, and the one that 
draws a good number gets his ten pound and goes 
off and gets married like a shot. See what an in- 
terest it’d make the girls take in your society. See 


“ERB” 


163 


how it’d make your young carmen sought after. 
See how fine it’d be for them to start life on their 
own, instead of having to go on paying so much a 
week for ’ire to the furniture shops. See how ” 

“ A reg’lar little orator,” said Erb approvingly. 
“ It must run in the blood, I think. Besides, there’s 
an idea in what you say.” 

“ I never speak,” said his sister with confidence, 
“ without I say something.” She paused for a mo- 
ment. “ I suppose, Erb, that — that with all this 
money coming in, you'll begin to think about get- 
ting ” 

He put his knife and fork down and rose from 
his chair. 

The marriage club was only one of the new fea- 
tures that Erb introduced to the society, but it was 
the one which had a tinge of melancholy, in that 
it appeared to him that he was almost alone in not 
having in hand a successful affair of the heart. 
Lady Frances came frequently to Bermondsey, 
where she threw herself with great earnestness into 
the excellent work of providing amusing hours for 
children — children who had never been taught 
games, and knew no other sport than that of imper- 
illing their little lives in the street. Erb, being seen 
with her one evening as she returned from a Board 
School, there ensued at the next committee meet- 
ing considerable badinage of a lumbering type; 
Payne declared that Erb should join the wedding 
club in order that the happy pair should be in a posi- 
tion to set up a house in Portman Square together ; 


164 


«‘E R B ” 


Spanswick remarked with less of good temper, that 
some people’s heads were getting too big for their 
hats; whilst other members, ever ready to take 
part in the fine old London sport of chipping, of- 
fered gibes. Erb retorted with his usual readiness, 
and laughed at the suggestion ; but afterwards 
found himself fearing whether Lady Frances was, 
in point of fact, lavishing upon him a hopeless affec- 
tion. He had almost persuaded himself to admit 
that this was the case, when his sister Alice made 
one of her condescending calls at Page’s Walk and 
gave, with other information, the fact that the 
sweetheart of Lady Frances, a lieutenant, the Hon- 
ourable Somebody, had some time since been or- 
dered away on a mission to the North-West Coast 
of Africa; her young ladyship was, by this desper- 
ate interest in the juveniles of Bermondsey, endeav- 
ouring to distract her mind from thoughts of her 
absent lover. Erb breathed again and gave assist- 
ance in managing the most trying boys at the 
“ Happy Evenings.” One night, as he performed 
the duty of seeing Lady Frances through the dimly- 
lighted streets to Spa Road Station, they met Rosa- 
lind and her father. Rosalind flushed hotly, and 
Erb wondered why. He demanded of her the rea- 
son at the next elocution lesson, and Rosalind said 
calmly, that it was because at that moment she had 
given her second-best ankle a twist. 

Lady Frances brought to Erb an invitation that 
flattered him. Her uncle, of Queen Anne’s Man- 
sions, a man in most of the money-making schemes. 


“ERB” 


i6 5 

of London, but one never anxious to obtrude his 
own name or his own personality, felt desirous of 
starting a movement for (to give the full Christian 
names) “ The Anglicising of Foreign Manufac- 
tures. ” 

This Lady Frances explained to him, with her 
usual vivacity, the while both kept an eye on some 
noisy Bermondsey infants, who were playing in the 
hall of the Board School. 

“ Other countries are getting ahead of us, my 
uncle says, and unless something is done at once, 
British trade (Now, children, do play without quar- 
relling, please, to oblige me!), British trade will go 
down, and down, and down, and there will be noth- 
ing left.” 

“ Are things really so bad ? ” 

“ Oh, they’re terrible,” declared Lady Frances, 
with great cheerfulness. “ Apparently the bed-rock 
has almost been reached, and it is only by a great 
and a unanimous effort that Great Britain will ever 
again be enabled to get its head above water. So, 
at any rate, my uncle tells me.” 

“ I don’t know — (Young Tommy Gibbons, if I 
catch you at that again you know what will happen) 
— I don’t know that I’ve ever studied the subject in 
the large. My own society takes up nearly all my 
time, and other work I leave to other people.” 

“ Exactly, Mr. Barnes, exactly ! I quite under- 
stand your position. But I have such faith in my 
uncle. Do you know that nearly everything he 
touches turns into money.” 


i66 


“ERB” 


“ Very agreeable gift.” 

“ But the point is this, that nothing can be done 
unless capital and labour work in unison for a com- 
mon end. One is affected quite as much as the other, 
and alone neither can do anything. British trades 
are being snapped up by America, by France, by 
Germany, even by Belgium, the only remedy, my 
uncle says, is for us to take some of their manufac- 
tures and plant them here. — (I was sure you’d fall 
down and hurt your knee, little boy. Come here and 
let me kiss the place and make it well) — I don’t 
know whether I make myself quite plain to you, Mr. 
Barnes ? ” 

“ In one sense you do,” said Erb. “ Only thing 
I can’t see is, where your uncle imagines that 1 
come in.” 

A dispute between two children over a doll ne- 
cessitated interference, based on the judgment of 
Solomon. 

“ Obviously,” replied the girl, delighted at the 
importance of her task, “ obviously, your work will 
be to organise.” 

“ Organise what ? ” 

“ Meetings of working men to take up the idea, 
discussion in the halfpenny papers, argument in 
workshops. In this way,” she said, with her engag- 
ing frankness, “ in this way, you see, you could 
strengthen my uncle’s hands.” 

“ Not sure that that is the one desire of my life.” 

“ I am so clumsy,” deplored Lady Frances. 

“ Not more than most people.” 


“ERB” 


167 

“If you would only see my uncle and argue it 
out ! He, I am sure, would succeed where I,” with 
a sigh, “ where I so horribly fail.” 

“ Look here,” said Erb, hastily, “ if it’s any sat- 
isfaction to you, I’ll say at once that I’m with the 
movement, heart, body, and soul.” 

Lady Frances took his big hand and patted it 
thankfully. 

“ Can’t tell you how pleased I am,” she declared. 
“ I’ll send on all the circulars and figures and things 
when I reach Eaton Square to-night — (Children, 
children, you are tiresome, really) — and then you 
can start work directly, can’t you ? ” 

A busy man always has time to spare ; it is only 
your lazy person who can never place a minute at 
anyone’s disposal. Thus it was that Erb tacked on 
to his other duties, the work of making known the 
Society for Anglicising Foreign Manufactures, 
pressing into the service all the young orators of his 
acquaintance, and furnishing them with short and 
easy arguments. Our import trade was so many 
millions in excess of our outgoing trade : why 
should this be so? Our villages were becoming 
deserted, and country manufactories dwindled day 
by day: this must be stopped. Vague talk about 
technical education ; praise for the English working 
man, and adulation of his extraordinary, but some- 
times dormant brain power; necessity of providing 
tasks for the rising generation that they might not 
push men of forty out of berths. An agreeable pro- 
gramme, one that could be promulgated without 


i68 


U ERB” 


those submissive inquiries addressed to the labour 
leaders in the House, which always had a sugges- 
tion of servility. Erb, the following Sunday, spoke 
at Southwark Park in the morning, at Peckham 
Rye in the afternoon, and Deptford Broadway in 
the evening, and, the subject being new, he found 
himself invited to address several working men’s 
clubs during the week. Paragraphs, slipped into the 
newspapers, sometimes contained his name : Lady 
Frances wrote that her uncle was delighted, and had 
asked to be especially remembered. A later note 
mentioned that it was intended to hold a mass meet- 
ing at St. James’s Hall, to bring the subject well 
before the people of London: her uncle would not 
be able to be present, but he had begged her to 
request Mr. Barnes to speak on this occasion : there 
would be a Duchess of philanthropic tendencies in 
the chair, and several members of Parliament had 
promised to speak. “ Don’t disappoint us ! ” said 
the postscript appealingly. Erb sent an agreeable 
postcard in reply, and a friend of his, an assistant- 
librarian in the Free Library, promised to devote 
himself to work of research and ascertain how one 
addressed a lady of such distinguished rank as the 
wife of a Duke. The assistant-librarian urged that 
evening-dress was the correct thing, and offered to 
lend a suit which he and his brother wore when they 
went out into society, patronising dances at the Sur- 
rey Masonic Hall ; but here Erb’s commonsense 
interfered. The meeting was advertised in the daily 
papers and on hoardings, his name given as Herbert 


“E R B” 


169 


Barnes, Esquire, with full qualifications set out: he 
never saw one of the posters without stopping to 
enjoy the sight, and it pained him extremely to find 
that on one or two in the neighbourhood of home 
some friend had erased the affix. Louisa went bold- 
ly one evening to the offices of the new society, in 
College Street, Westminster, and obtained a copy 
of the poster; this she wpuld have exhibited in the 
front window, but compromised by sticking it at its 
four corners on the wall of the sitting room. 

St. James’s Hall was not over-crowded on the 
evening, and a wealthy member of the committee 
went about telling everybody that a smaller room 
would have been cheaper, but it was full enough 
to please Erb as he took a view of it from the stairs 
leading to the platform. The platform was fringed 
with palms; on the walls were hung banners, with’ 
quotations from Shakespeare down to the newest 
poet ; quotations, that appeared to give vague sup- 
port to the movement. Lady Frances, hovering 
about in the manner of an anxious butterfly, intro- 
duced Erb to the Duchess, and the Duchess, with- 
out using her lorgnon, said beamingly that she had 
read all of Mr. Barnes’s works, and felt quite too 
delighted to meet the author; Erb protested nerv- 
ously that he had never written a book, but the 
Duchess waved this aside as ineffective badinage, 
and went on talking the while she looked away 
through her glasses at arriving people. So delight- 
ed, said the Duchess absently, to mingle with men 
of talent ; it took one into another atmosphere. The 


170 


“ERB” 


Duchess, for her part, claimed to have powers of 
observation, and trusted piously that she was not 
altogether without a sense of humour, but these 
exceptional qualities, she said, had never availed 
her when she took pen in hand. Erb, perceiving 
the futility of contradiction, suggested that she 
should one day, when a spare moment arrived, have 
another dash at it, and tl^e Duchess, bringing her 
gaze by a process of exhaustion round to him, 
stared at him wonderingly for a moment, and then 
promised to act upon his advice. A shy little man 
of letters being submitted just then to her consid- 
eration, the Duchess dropped Erb, and engaged 
in animated monologue on the subject of labour 
and how to conciliate it: her own method seemed 
to be to treat it as an elephant and give it buns. 
Erb stood about the room, whilst well-dressed peo- 
ple flew one to the other with every sign of grati- 
fication ; he felt all his usual difficulty of not know- 
ing what to do with his hands. The people had 
a manner of speech that he could understand with 
difficulty, they talked of things that for him were 
a sealed book. Three clergymen who came in a 
bunch and seemed similarly out of the movement, 
gave him a feeling of companionship. When they 
all formed in a line and marched up on the plat- 
form to a mild, whispered cheering from the Hall, 
Erb’s interest quickened, and the slight feeling of 
nervousness came which always affected him when 
he was going to speak. 

“ And I do think,” said the Duchess, with shrill 


“ERB M 


171 

endeavour to make her voice reach the back of the 
hall, “ I do think that the more we consider such 
matters the more likely we are to understand them 
and to realise what they mean, and to gain a better 
and a wider and a truer knowledge.” The three 
clergymen said, “ Good, good,” in a burst of respect- 
ful approbation, as men suddenly illuminated by a 
new thought. “ I am tempted to go further,” said 
the Duchess, waving her notes threateningly at the 
audience, “ to go further, and express myself, if I 
may so say, that having put our hands to the 
plough — ” She looked round at the straight line 
of folk behind her, and they endeavoured to con- 
vey by their looks that if a Duchess could not be 
allowed the use of daring metaphor, then it would 
have to be denied to everybody. “ Having put our 
hands to the plough, we shall not turn back — (slight 
cheering) — we shall not falter — (renewed slight 
cheering) — we shall not loiter by the roadside, but 
we shall go steadily on, knowing well that — that — ” 
Here the Duchess found her notes and read the 
last words of her peroration carefully, “ knowing 
well that our goal is none other than the rising sun, 
which symbolises so happily the renaissance — ” 
Here she looked down at the reporters’ table, and 
seemed about to spell the word, but refraining con- 
tented herself by saying it again with great dis- 
tinctness. “ The renaissance of British Trade and 
British Supremacy ! ” 

A service member of Parliament proposed the 
first resolution, and did so in a speech that would 


172 


“ERB” 


have suited any and every occasion on sea or land, 
in that it was made up entirely of platitudes, and 
included not one argument that could be seized by 
the most contentious ; the whole brightened by what 
the member of Parliament himself described as a 
most amusing discussion which he had held with 
a man of the labouring classes not many years since 
(on which occasion the member had travelled sec- 
ond, this being notoriously the only way of discov- 
ering the true aspirations of the lower classes), and 
the member had subjected the man to a rigid cross- 
examination of the most preposterous and useless 
nature which he now repeated with many an “ Ah, 
but I said — ” and “ Now listen to me, my good 
fellow — ” and “ Permit me to explain what I mean 
in simple words so that even you can understand,” 
the labouring man eventually giving in (so, at any 
rate, the Member declared), admitting that the gal- 
lant Member had won the game at every point — the 
probability being that the poor fellow, bullied and 
harried by a talkative bore, had done so in the 
interests of peace and with a desire to be let alone 
and allowed to read his evening paper. The serv- 
ice Member clearly prided himself not only on the 
acuteness which he had displayed in the argument, 
but also on the wonderful imitative faculty which 
enabled him to reproduce the dialect of his oppo- 
nent, a dialect which seemed to have been somewhat 
mixed, for in one instance he spoke Lancashire 
with, “ Aye, ah niver thowt o’ that,” and the next 
broad Somerset, “ There be zummat in what yew 


“ERB” 


i73 


zay, zir,” and anon in a strange blend of Irish and 
Scotch. 

That this meeting calls upon the working 
classes to put aside all differences and to contribute 
their indispensable assistance to the new movement, 
from which they themselves have so much to gain.’ 
Will Mr. Herbert Barnes please second ?” 

This was written on the slip of paper, and passed 
along to Erb at a moment when the grisly fear had 
begun to possess him that he might not be called 
upon at all. He nodded to the secretary, and felt 
that the audience, now tired of listening to spoken 
words, looked at him doubtfully. One of the three 
clergymen being selected to move the resolution, the 
other two looked at their shoes with a pained in- 
terest, and presently tugged at their black watch- 
guards, ascertained the time, and, just before the 
chosen man arose, slipped quietly out. Fortunately 
for Erb, the remaining clergyman started on a line 
of reasoning excellently calculated to annoy and to 
stimulate. Began by pointing out that everybody 
nowadays worked excepting the working man, 
doubted whether it was of much use offering to 
him help, but declaring himself, in doleful tones, 
an optimist, congratulated the new movement on its 
courage, its altruism, its high nobility of purpose, 
and managed, before sitting down, to intimate very 
defiantly that unless labour seized this unique oppor- 
tunity, then labour must be left to shift for itself 
and could no longer expect any assistance from 
him. 


12 


174 


“ERB” 


“ Ladies and gentlemen ! ” said Erb distinctly. 
The promise of listening to a voice that could be 
heard without difficulty aroused the Hall. “ I should 
be glad if the gentleman who spoke last could 
spare just three minutes of his time, and refrain 
for that space from making a hurried and some- 
what undignified departure from the Hall.” The 
clergyman who had adopted the crouching attitude 
of those who desire to escape furtively from close 
confinement, returned and sat, his back straight- 
ened. “ He has spoke — I should say, he has spoken 
— in a patronising way of labour, and I want to tell 
him that we resent very strongly his condescending 
and almost contemptuous words.” 

His predecessor rose and said, “ May it please 
your ” 

“ No, no, no ! ” said Erb, with but a slight modi- 
fication of his Southwark Park manner, “ I didn’t 
interrupt the reverend gentleman, and I’m not 
going to allow him to interrupt me. Or to assume 
the duties, your Grace,” with a nod to the chair, 
“ which you perform with such conspicuous charm 
and ability.” 

The Duchess, who, fearing a row, had been anx- 
iously consulting those around her in order to gain 
hints as to procedure, recovered confidence on re- 
ceiving this compliment, and gave a smile of relief. 
Men at the table below adjusted their black leaves 
of carbonic paper and began to write. 

“ Now, I’ve been into the details almost as care- 
fully as the reverend gentleman has, and what I 


“ERB” 


i75 


want to say, in order that this audience should 
not consider that we are absolutely silly fools, 
is, that so far from this movement having been 
arranged in order to benefit the workers exclu- 
sively, it is very clear to me that there’s a few be- 
hind the scenes who are going to make a bit out 
of it.” 

One cry of approval came from the distant gal- 
lery, but this scarcely counted, for it was a voice 
that had applauded contrary statements with the 
same decision. Erb knew the owner of the voice, 
a queer old crank, who went about to public meet- 
ings, his pockets bursting with newspapers, more 
than content if in the Free Library the next day 
he should find but one of his solitary cries of “ Hear, 
hear,” reported in the daily press. 

“ I’ve no doubt they feel pretty certain of a 
safe eight or ten per cent. ; if they didn’t, this meet- 
ing would never have been held, and we should 
have been denied the pleasure of listening to that 
lucid and illuminating speech with which your Grace 
has favoured us. I say this that the previous speak- 
er may see and that you all may recognise the fact 
that if those I represent give the cause any assist- 
ance, we do so with our eyes wide open, and that 
we are not blindfolded by the cheap flannel sort of 
arguments to which we have just listened. But let 
me go on. Because this is going to be a soft thing 
for the capitalists, it by no means follows that it is 
going to be a hard thing for the worker. On the 
contrary ! I can see — or I think I can see — that 


176 


“ERB” 


this is likely to benefit both of us. (Cheers.) And 
whilst I repudiate the attitude and the arguments 
of the last speaker, I promise you that I am pre- 
pared to do all that I can for the scheme — (cheers) 
— not in the interests of capital, for capital can 
look after itself, but in the interests of labour, which 
sometimes wants a lot of looking after. Your Grace, 
I beg to second the resolution.” 

Not a great speech by any means, but one with 
the golden virtue of brevity, and one spoken with 
obvious earnestness. The Hall liked it ; the subse- 
quent speakers made genial references to it, and 
the Duchess, in acknowledging a vote of thanks, 
repaid Erb for his compliment to herself by prophe- 
sying that Mr. Barnes would prove a pillar of 
strength to the cause, declaring graciously that she 
should watch his career with interest, and gave him 
a fierce smile that seemed to hint that this in itself 
was sufficient to ensure success. (Later, when he 
said goodbye, the Duchess called him Mr. Blenkin- 
sop, and begged him to convey her kindest regards 
to his dear wife.) 

“ I wonder,” said a gentleman with concave 
spectacles, “ I wonder, now, whether you have a 
card about you ? ” 

“ Going to do a trick ? ” asked Erb. 

“ Here’s mine. Have you ever thought of en- 
tering the House ? ” 

“ Someone would have to provide me with a 
latch-key.” 

“ I take you ! ” remarked the spectacled gentle- 


“ERB” 


177 


man adroitly. “ Don’t happen to be Welsh, I sup- 
pose, by any chance ? Ah ! a pity ! ” 

For a moment it occurred to Erb that this might 
be a sample of aristocratic chaff; he stopped his 
retort on seeing that the other was talking with 
perfect seriousness. “ But something else may hap- 
pen at any moment. We live in strange times.” 

. “ We always do,” said Erb. 

“ I shall keep you in my mind.” 

Lady Frances eluded some dowagers who were 
bearing down upon her, and came to him ; she took 
an envelope from a pretty hiding place. 

“ My uncle particularly begged me to give you 
this. You were so good, Mr. Barnes. (Don’t open 
it until you get home.) Your speech was just what 
one wanted. You quite cleared the air.” 

“ Afraid I should clear the ’All.” Lady Frances 
seemed not to comprehend, and the knowledge came 
to Erb that he had missed an aspirate. 

“ My uncle will be so pleased. I shall be down 
at Bermondsey next week, and I can bring any 
message my uncle wishes to send. I don’t bother 
you, Mr. Barnes ? ” 

“ Need you ask? ” replied Erb. 

“You’re not going?” with her gloved hand 
held out. 

Erb took the hint and made his exit with diffi- 
culty, because several ladies buzzed around him, 
humming pleasant words. The spectacled man 
walked with him along Piccadilly, talking busily, 
and expressed a desire to take Erb into the club 


x 7 8 


“ERB” 


for coffee. “ Only that my place is so deucedly 
uncivil to visitors.” He contented himself with a 
threat that Erb should most certainly hear from 
him again. 

“ I shan’t lose your address,” said the spectacled 
person. 

It was not until the Committee Meeting of the 
R.C.S. had nearly finished one evening that Erb, 
in searching for a letter which some members de- 
sired to see, found the note from Lady Frances’s 
uncle. He tore the flap casually, and, recognising 
it, placed the opened envelope aside, and pursued 
his searches for the required document. Spanswick, 
with a busy air of giving assistance, looked through 
the letters, and opened the communication which 
Lady Frances had brought. 

“ Pardon, old man,” whispered Spanswick con- 
fidentially. “ Didn’t know I was interfering with 
money matters.” 


CHAPTER X 


It is the ingenious habit of Kentish railways di- 
rectly that hop-picking is over and pay-day is done, 
to advertise excursions to London at a fare so cheap 
that not to take advantage of it were to discourage 
Providence in its attempts to make the world pleas- 
ant. Country folk, who make but one visit a year 
to town, seize this September opportunity ; some 
avail themselves not only of this but of the Cattle 
Show trip later on ; a few also take the pantomime 
excursion in February, and these are counted in 
quiet villages as being, by frequent contact with 
town, blades of the finest temper, to whom (if they 
would but be candid) no mysteries of the great 
town are unknown. Erb’s Aunt Emma, giving her- 
self reward for a month’s hard work in the hop- 
garden, came up every year by the September ex- 
cursion. It happened on this occasion that the day 
could not have made a more awkward attempt to fit 
in with Erb’s convenience. 

“ Well,” said Aunt Emma, in the ’bus, desolate- 
ly, “ I’m not surprised ! It’s what comes of looking 
forward to anything. When I heerd as you may 
say, you’d left the railway, I said to the party that 
comes in on Mondays to help me do my week’s 

179 


i8o 


“ERB” 


washing, ‘ I don’t know,’ I says, 4 what to think 
’bout all this.’ ” 

“ Any other day, almost,” urged her nephew, “ I 
could have arranged for the day off, but I’ve got 
important work to do that’ll take me up to nine 
o’clock.” 

“ Whenever I find a bit of a lad giving up a hon- 
est living, I always say to Mrs. Turley, I say, ‘ Dang 
it all, this won’t do ! ’ And when it ’appened to my 
brother’s own boy I turned round at once, I did, and 
I said, ‘ I don’t know what to ’ ” 

“ If Louisa had been quite herself, why, of 
course, she ” 

“ I’ll get back to Lonnon Bridge,” said Aunt 
Emma grimly. “ Reckon I shall be some’ing like 
Mrs. Turley’s eldest. He come up one November, 
he did — first time he’d been to Lonnon — and it were 
a bit foggy, so he kep’ in the station all day ; when 
he come home, he says, ‘ Mother,’ he says, ‘ it’s a 
fine big place, Lonnon is, but it dedn’t quite come 
up to my expectations.’ ” The parchment-faced old 
lady was pleased by Erb’s reception of this anecdote, 
and, gratified also to get a smile from other passen- 
gers, she relaxed in manner; Erb saw the oppor- 
tunity. 

“ Tell you what we’ve arranged, Aunt Emma. 
Louisa and me talked it over as soon’s ever we made 
out your letter ” 

“ I don’t perfess,” remarked the old lady, “ to be 
first-class in me spellin’. ’Sides, I got someone else 
to write it.” 


“ERB” 


181 

“ And we decided that we’d get a friend of 
mine — a friend of ours to look after you for the 
day.” 

“ What’s he like ? ” asked the old lady, with re- 
luctant show of interest. 

“ It’s a she!” 

“ Your young woman ? ” 

“ I don’t go in for anything of that kind,” said 
Erb, looking round the ’bus apprehensively. “ Too 
busy for such nonsense.” 

“ Never knew the man yet,” said Aunt Emma, 
“ that couldn’t make time to get fond of somebody.” 

Arrived at the office at Grange Road, Erb was 
showing the aunt some of his newspaper notices, 
when he heard on the stairs the swish of skirts. He 
lost the remaining half of his remark. 

“ And you’ve been fairly walking out, then, as 
you may say, with our Lady Frances? ” 

“ You can’t call it that, Aunt. I’ve only just 
been paying her polite attention.” 

“ I know what you mean,” remarked the old 
lady acutely. “ Her grandmother — I’m speaking 
now of forty year ago, mind you — her grandmother 
ran off with a — let me see! Forget me own name 
next.” 

Erb answered the quiet tap at the open door. 

“ Good girl ! ” he cried cheerfully. “ Welcome 
to our baronial hall ! Aunt Emma, this is the young 
lady that’s going to pilot you round. Almost makes 
you seem,” he said to Rosalind, “ like one of the 
family.” 


182 


“ERB” 


“ I only had to put off three pupils,” said Rosa- 
lind quickly. “ How do you do ? ” 

“ I’m going downstairs to fetch coffee and 
scones for you two,” announced Erb. “ Try not to 
come to blows whilst I’m away.” 

“ My sciatica is just beginning to wake up, as 
you may say,” replied Aunt Emma. 

“ So sorry,” said Rosalind sympathetically. “ It 
must interfere with getting about.” 

“ Thank you,” replied Aunt Emma coldly. 
“ I’m able to set up and take nourishment.” 

“ I expect your nephew has a lot of callers,” she 
said with determination. “ He knows a good many 
people.” 

“ Are you acquainted with our Lady Frances,” 
asked the aunt in a mysterious whisper. 

“ I have just seen her,” flushing a little for some 
reason. 

“ These upper classes, they don’t stand at noth- 
ing, as you may say, when — ” Erb returned, and 
the aunt, with the wink of a diplomatist, raised 
her voice. “ They paid eight to the shillin’ this 
year ; it ought to’ve been seven. I said so 
straight, all through the hopping, I did, to Mrs. 
Turley.” 

The doors were to open at two for the after- 
noon’s entertainment, and the aunt’s idea was that 
it were well to get there by noon, and thus ensure 
the best value in seats for a shilling ; Rosalind gent- 
ly over-ruled this, and they went first to Westmin- 
ster Abbey, at which the aunt sneered, saying it was 


“ERB” 


183 

not her idea of a place of worship, and to the Na- 
tional Gallery, in regard to the contents of which 
the old lady hinted that they compared badly with 
a rare set of illuminated almanacks which she had 
at home, issued yearly by Deane, the grocer; the 
almanacks, it appeared, had the advantage of giv- 
ing the date of jolly nigh every month you could 
think of. Trafalgar Square, looked on as a square, 
the aunt thought not much better than middling; 
the Embankment, in her opinion, lacked many of the 
attractions that she remembered once to have found 
at Ramsgate. But when, later, they were seated in 
the front row of the gallery in a small hall, and the 
curtain went up disclosing a crescent of black-faced 
men, with instrumentalists behind them, and simi- 
larly coloured gentlemen, with be-frilled shirt- 
fronts, at either end asked riddles of the gentleman- 
ly man at the centre, riddles of which the gentle- 
manly man almost alone in the Hall knew not 
the answer, able only to repeat the question in a 
sonorous manner, then Aunt Emma relinquished 
all attempt at criticism, and gave herself up to 
pure delight. “ Can you tole me, Mithter Johnthon, 
how a woman differth from an umbrella ? ” 
“ Can I tell you,” repeated the gentlemanly man 
very distinctly, “ how a woman differs from an um- 
brella?” 

“ Now ’ark for the answer ! ” whispered Aunt 
Emma, nudging her young companion gleefully. 

“ No, sir,” said the gentlemanly man, “ I can- 
not tell you how a woman differs from an umbrella.” 


184 


“ERB” 


“ You can’t tole me how a woman differth from an 
umbrella ? Why,” explained the corner-man, “ you 
can shut an umbrella up ! ” 

“ How in the world they think of all these 
things!” said Aunt Emma exhaustedly. “ Dang 
my old eyes if it ’ent a miracle ! ” 

Aunt Emma wept when a thin-voiced youth 
sang, “ Don’t neglect your mother ’cause her hair 
is getting grey,” became hysterical with amusement 
over, “I’m a gay old bachelor widow.” Rosalind 
found herself enjoying the enjoyment of the old 
lady, and when they came out into daylight, and 
went across the way to a noble establishment, where 
they had high tea, the two were on excellent terms 
with each other, and information regarding small 
scandals of Penshurst was placed freely at Rosa- 
lind’s disposal. The old lady spoke in an awed 
whisper when she came to the people at the Court, 
and arrested a slice of ham on her fork, as though 
sensible of the demands of etiquette when dealing 
with the upper classes. 

“ You’re not married, my dear,” said Aunt 
Emma, loosening the strings of her bonnet and al- 
lowing it to fall to the back of her head in an ele- 
gant way, “ or else I could speak more free, as you 
may say, on the subject. That grandmother of 
hers — ” The old lady pursed her lips, and 
glanced at her reflection in the mirrored walls with 
a pained shake of the head. 

“ But,” urged Rosalind, perturbed by the aunt’s 
confident manner of prophecy, “ Lady Frances, I 


“ERB” 185 

understand, is engaged to a lieutenant out in North 
Africa.” 

“ Then sooner he comes back,” shaking a spoon 
threateningly, “ sooner he comes back the better. I 
don’t want to go opening my old mouth too wide, 
or else like enough I shall go and putt my foot in it. 
I’ve said all I want to say, and I don’t want folk to 
turn round arterwards and say to me, * Why didn’t 
you give us warnin’ ? ’ Strikes me, my dear, we 
might have drop more hot water with this yere tea.” 

“ Do you know her uncle at all ? ” 

“ I know of him. I used to be upper housemaid 
at the Court.” 

“ And what ” 

“ I don’t think no worse of him,” said Aunt 
Emma in a slow, careful, and judicial manner, “ I 
don’t think no worse of him than what he’s thought 
worse of.” 

“ I see,” said Rosalind doubtfully. The girl was 
silent for a few moments. She looked at the walnut 
face of Erb’s aunt, at the elderly dimple beside the 
mouth, she watched the old lady’s cautious way of 
munching food. 

“ What you thinking of, my dear ? ” 

“ Nothing, nothing,” said Rosalind, arousing 
herself. 

“ You won’t ’spect me to finish up these yere bits 
I hope,” said Aunt Emma, looking at the crusts by 
the side of her plate. “ My teeth ain’t what they 
was when I was your age. Ah,” with a sigh, “ that 
seems long time ago.” 


“ You have never been married, have you ? ” 

“ Could ha’ been,” said the old lady shortly. 
“ ’Twarnt for want of being asked.” 

“ Why, of course not.” 

“ Only chap I ever wanted,” she said reminis- 
cently, “ I let him go and get snapped up by some- 
one else ; silly bit of a gel that I was. I tell ye what 
’tis!” 

People at the neighbouring tables were listen- 
ing, and Rosalind touched her wrinkled hand gently 
to call her attention to the fact. 

“ Once you’ve made up your mind, as you may 
say, about a young man, you’ve got to be jeggerin’ 
well careful you don’t go and lose him. Makes all 
the difference whether you get the right man or 
the wrong man, or no man at all. Now what about 
this Drury Lane? We’d bedder be too soon than 
too late.” 

A wonderful old person for her age, and Rosa- 
lind, made rather thoughtful for some reason by 
the conversation, had much ado to keep up with her 
as they walked through Leicester Square and Long 
Acre in the direction of Autumn Melodrama. 
When the doors opened, Erb’s aunt fought her 
way in with the best of them, securing two seats 
in the second row, and keeping strong men and 
insurgent women at bay until Rosalind came up ; 
she ordered a very tall man in the front row to 
sit down, and when he replied that he was a sit- 
ting down Aunt Emma suggested that he should 
lie down. Then the old lady loosened her elastic- 


“ERB” 187 

sided boots slightly, and prepared to meet enjoy- 
ment. 

A great evening. Aunt Emma confessed to 
Rosalind, as they came out, that, say what you liked, 
there was no place like London, and, but for the 
fact that she wanted to save the bit of money she 
had put away, she would willingly bid good-bye to 
Penshurst and come up to town, spending every 
afternoon at Moore and Burgess', and every even- 
ing at Drury Lane. Outside the theatre was Erb. 

“ Nice young woman, if ever there was one,” 
whispered Emma to her nephew. “ Superior man- 
ner, and all that.” 

“ Thought you'd get along all right with her,'* 
remarked Erb. 

“ I’ve been giving her advice.” 

“ Trust you.” 

“ Wonnerful to see such qualities of people 
about,” said the old lady, hailing Rosalind into the 
discussion as they walked along the crowded 
Strand. “ Nothin like this down where I live.” 

“ Have you far to walk at the other end ? ” asked 
the girl solicitously. 

“ Not fur,” replied the wonderful old lady. 
“ Ony 'bout four mile and h’af.” 

The excursion train was nearly ready to start, 
and Erb, finding an old acquaintance in the guard, 
arranged for appropriate finish to a great day by 
placing his aunt in a first-class compartment. She 
remarked gleefully that this would be something to 
tell Mrs. Turley. 


i88 


“ERB” 


“ God bless ye, my dear,” she said, kissing Rosa- 
lind. “ And don’t forget what I told you. Erb, 
take care of her.” 

Rosalind wanted to go into the Strand telegraph 
office opposite the station for a moment, if Erb did 
not mind. Erb did not mind, and he waited. 

“ As much as that ? ” said Rosalind to the clerk. 
“ Seems a lot of money.” 

“ Well, you see, miss,” replied the clerk, apolo- 
getically, “ people don’t telegraph to these distant 
parts unless it’s about something important.” 


CHAPTER XI 


“ My dear »Mr. Barnes,” wrote Lady Frances’ 
uncle in a genial note, dated from a Pall Mall club, 
“ I am sorry my niece did not make my intention 
more apparent; possibly the mistake was my own. 
I never dreamt of offering you, as you assume, 
anything in the shape of a bribe. What I thought 
was that, as one who had the interests both of capi- 
tal and labour at heart, I might be allowed to make 
a small contribution towards any movement in 
which you were interested. You mentioned once an 
idea of starting a small paper ; let my small cheque 
assist in this excellent effort. 

“ I was glad to see your admirable speech so 
fully reported in the newspapers. The new move- 
ment owes much to your influential voice. I think 
we shall want you to run down to Birmingham next 
week, but the secretary will write you, and he also 
will see to the expenses. If you will not accept pay- 
ment for your services, at any rate there is no rea- 
son why you should* be out of pocket over the busi- 
ness. — Yours with great regard.” 

“ Reads fair enough,” commented Erb. “ I may 
have worded my letter a bit too harsh.” 

From Birmingham the party went to Stafford 
and to Coventry, all somewhat in the manner of a 

13 189 


“E R B ” 


190 

travelling theatrical company, the party including, 
indeed, some eccentrics which emphasised the re- 
semblance. There was an Irish barrister, who had 
hitherto pleaded mainly at Cogers’ Hall, and had a 
change in temperament for every glass of whiskey 
that he drank, going up and up the hill of cheerful- 
ness until a certain number was reached, whereupon 
each succeeding glass made him descend slowly to 
the tableland of contempt for the world; a young 
Oxford man eager to make some alteration in the 
world without delay ; and one or two safe men, who 
could always be relied upon to say a few appropriate 
words. Erb sent to Rosalind from each town press 
notices, with crosses near to the references to him- 
self, until it suddenly occurred to him that these 
signs might have two meanings ; afterwards he 
drew a rather clumsy hand to draw attention to the 
only item in the papers worthy of Rosalind’s notice. 

Erb was now so much in the movement of life 
that he experienced a kind of restless fever unless 
he had some new project in hand. He felt ashamed 
to confess himself hurt on his journey back to town 
when he found names of other labour leaders en- 
dowed with the importance of print, and a news- 
paper which did not contain his name appeared to 
him to have been scarce worth the trouble of set- 
ting up ; this was emphasised by the fact that the 
Irish barrister, on seeing him off, had given him 
a generous compliment; patting him on the back, 
he had assured Erb that the name of Barnes was 
one that would be engraven in imperishable letters 


“ERB” 


191 

of gold on the temple of Fame, and that he, for 
his part, would never, never forget him. Small 
wonder, with this feeling of self-importance, that 
Erb should give but little attention to the fact that 
Louisa was at home in Page’s Walk, looking paler 
than usual. Louisa remarked that she was really 
only playing truant, having made up her mind not 
to work so hard in future. “ They think all the 
more of you,” said Louisa acutely. 

A storm seldom occurs without some premoni- 
tory signs, and it was on the tramcar that took him 
to Camberwell — no reason why he should go to 
Camberwell other than his desire to see Rosalind, 
and this would make him late for the committee 
meeting — it was on the tramcar that the first warn- 
ings appeared. Erb was seated at the back reading 
the manuscript, an article commencing, “ Brother 
Workers ! ” when two men in railway uniform came 
up the steps, so keenly engaged in conversation that 
they stopped half-way to settle some disputed point, 
barring the descent of passengers who wished to 
alight. When, at the strenuously-worded request 
of the delayed passengers, and the mild appeal of 
a tame conductor, they were induced to move, they 
scampered up, and taking seats immediately in front 
of Erb, recommenced their argument. One was a 
member of Erb’s society ; the other, a man who had 
obstinately kept outside. Erb would have spoken 
to them, but that he was just then in a state of 
ecstatic admiration over what seemed to him a well- 
turned sentence in the article. 


192 


“ERB” 


“ Tell you what it is, old man,” said the non- 
member, slapping his corduroyed knee emphatic- 
ally. “ You’ve been makin’ a little tin god of the 
chap, and, naturally enough, he’s taken advantage 
of it. You pass him votes of thanks, and what not, 
and fill him up with soft soap, and consequence 
is, he goes swelling about, and ” 

“ He wasn’t far wrong about that South Western 
business,” remarked the other with meek determi- 
nation, “ and chance it.” 

“ You can’t expect a man not to do right some- 
times. I ain’t arguin’, mind you, that Erb’s a fool. 
Far from it ! My view of the matter is, if you must 
know ” 

“ I never ast for your opinion ! ” 

“ Never mind whether you ast for it or not. My 
view of the whole matter is that he’s the only clever 
man amongst you. He’s got you all on a bit o’ 
string. He goes away, as you mentioned, for a 
week or ten days together, and never thinks of 
communicatin’ with you; he gets his name in the 
papers; for all you know he may be playin’ a 
double game ” 

The conductor came up for fares, and the argu- 
mentative man fortified his position by paying for 
both. 

“ A double game. No, no ! let me finish ! And 
all the time laughing in his sleeve at the lot of you. 
I’ve known that sort before. I’ve met ’em. I’ve 
come across ’em. I say no more,” he added mys- 
teriously, and sat back, glaring at the sky. 


“ERB” 


i93 


“ Well, but — ” The member seemed ill-quali- 
fied for debate, and Erb was greatly tempted to 
prompt him. “ What I mean is — What I was 
about to say was ” 

“ He’s a having you,” said the other, smiling 
thoughtfully at the sky, “ he’s a having you on 
toast ! ” 

“ But what’s it to do with you ? ” demanded the 
other, not finding the argument for which he had 
searched. 

“ Nothing ! ” retorted the other. 

The member, taken aback by this unexpected 
reply, could not speak for a few moments. He 
looked appealingly at the names on the shops by 
which they were passing for a suggestion, and ap- 
peared to find one in the word Goodenough. 

“ After all,” he began, “ for our purpose ” 

“ Don’t forget this ! ” interrupted the other. 
“ Don’t let this fact slip out of your memory. It 
was you began this argument. I never seeked for 
it. We was having a glass in the Old Kent Road, 
and you, or one of the others, began by saying 
that Erb was growing a great deal too big for his 
boots.” 

“ / never said it,” growled the other sulkily. 

“ Did someone pass a remark to that effect, or 
did someone not pass a remark to that effect ? Am 
I speaking the truth, or am I a bloomin’ liar?” 

“ It’s one or the other,” said the member cau- 
tiously. 

“ That won’t do for me,” said the non-member, 


194 


“ERB” 


now in the sheer enjoyment of cross-examination. 
“ I ast you a straightforward question, and if you 
can’t give me a straightforward answer, why, I must 
draw me own conclusions. That’s all.” And smiled 
again mysteriously at the sky. 

“ Well,” replied the other, goaded, “ I don’t 
mind going so far as this. Certain things have been 
said of late at certain depots that I needn’t name, 
and it’s all going to be brought up at the meeting 
to-night. Mind you, it mustn’t go any further.” 
The other man gave a nod intended to signify that 
he had guessed all this. “ And being meself on 
Erb’s side, and not wanting to be mixed up in any- 
thing like a shindy, why, I’m giving it a miss, and 
I’m off down to meet the wife’s brother at his club 
in Peckham and spend a nice, quiet, sociable even- 
ing. See ? ” 

“ And you,” remarked the other thoughtfully, 
“ you call yourself a man? Well, well, well ! ” with 
a sigh, “ the longer we live the older we get.” 

“ What are you snacking at me about now ? ” 
demanded the member heatedly. 

Erb slipped down the steps, disturbed by the 
news which he had heard, but with also a feeling 
of elation at the prospect of a fight. He found 
the Professor alone in the house in Southampton 
Street ; Rosalind was out giving lessons at a school 
for superior young ladies at Brixton. Professor 
full of a kind of stale enthusiasm concerning a new 
project, which was to take a theatre or a town hall 
or a room or something and give costume recitals. 


“ERB” 


*95 


grave and gay, and to keep on at it night after night 
until people found themselves forced to come in 
their thousands; the Professor seemed to have 
worked this out as though it were a scheme for 
winning gold at Monte Carlo, and he had already 
decided what he should do with the enormous 
profits. Difficulty was to select from the many 
suburbs of London one place which should be fa- 
voured with the experiment ; another difficulty (but 
this he seemed to think of less importance) con- 
sisted in the fact that, from inquiries he had caused 
to be made, it appeared that those who controlled 
the letting of public premises had a distrustful habit 
of requiring the rent in advance. Erb, in answer 
to a question, declared that he had no sort of influ- 
ence in the City, a place with which the Professor 
seemed imperfectly acquainted in that he regarded 
it as a storehouse of valuables, the door of which 
flew open if you but knew the one, the indispensable 
word ; the Professor considered the matter for a 
while with one hand twirling his hair, and then, 
illuminated, announced his intention of taking off 
his coat to the work. As a first step, he proposed 
to take a cab to Throgmorton Street, and have a 
thoroughly good look round. Erb suggested a ’bus 
and the Professor replied that undertakings of this 
kind had to be carried through with a certain 
amount of dash and spirit which could not be done 
under one and six, or, at the very least, one and 
three. For this sum Erb compounded, and the 
Professor made a note of the amount on the back 


196 


“ERB” 


of an envelope that a treacherous memory should 
not play tricks ; the message for Rosalind he could 
trust to his mind. He was working like a bonded 
slave, he added, on behalf of his little girl : she was 
fortunate, indeed, in having a father who could 
keep accounts. Erb restrained an obvious repartee, 
and the old gentleman, in his slippers, walked with 
him out to Camberwell Gate, where, in the interests 
of economy, he proposed to look in at a bar which 
had in its window a card bearing the ambiguous 
announcement, “ The ‘ Stage ’ Taken In.” 

Erb found that he had allowed the garrulous old 
gentleman to detain him longer than he should have 
done ; when, on reaching the coffee-shop in Grange 
Road he ran upstairs to the committee rooms, he 
could hear voices raised, and he knew that not only 
had the meeting already commenced, but that a 
contentious subject was being debated. The rap- 
ping of Payne’s hammer failed to arrest tumultuous 
speech, and it was only when Erb opened the door 
that the argumentative voices stopped. 

“ Fact of the matter is,” said Payne, in the chair, 
rather hurriedly — “ good evening, Erb, you’re late- 
ish — the fact of the matter is this is one of them 
very peculiar subjects where there’s something, no 
* doubt, to be said on both sides. Let’s get on to 
the next business.” 

Erb went to his chair by the side of Payne and 
took some papers from his pocket. He looked up 
and down the table nodding ; his salutation was not 
in every case returned, and some of the men glared 


“ERB M 


197 


sternly at the advertisements ; Spanswick waved his 
hand in the friendliest manner. 

“ There’s the matter,” said Payne, “ the matter 
of starting a paper or a organ or something of a 
sim’lar nature. I call upon the secretary to make 
a statement.” 

“ I object,” said a voice. 

“ That you, Lindsay? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Chairman,” announced a hot-faced 
youth, rising from his seat, “ it is me.” 

“ Sed down,” advised Spanswick audibly at his 
side. “ Don’t make a silly young laughing-stock 
of yourself.” 

This was sufficient for the fiery-faced Mr. Lind- 
say. He was from St. Pancras, and an engagement 
with a lady who kept a small laundry at Child’s 
Hill had recently been annulled at her particular 
request (a circumstance he had related in confidence 
to everybody), the Midland man having been driv- 
ing about London for some days boiling up his 
thoughts, had decided that the world was managed 
on some erroneous system ; it behoved him to put 
it right. Lindsay had come to the meeting with the 
vague desire to get satisfaction by opposing some- 
thing; here in the discussion concerning Erb ap- 
peared a subject which exactly fitted his require- 
ments. 

“ I should like to say a few brief words on the 
matter which we ’ave jest been discussing.” 

“ Question ! ” cried Spanswick. 

“ I’ll question you,” retorted Lindsay heatedly, 


198 


“ERB” 


“ if you can’t leave off interruptin’. I appeal to 
the Midland men present, and I ask whether they’re 
going to allow themselves to be sat upon ? ” 

“ You’ll be jumped on if you don’t look out,” 
said Spanswick. The room began to take sides. 

“ You do it,” shouted the other, goaded. “ You 
do it, that’s all! Try it on! Have a dash at it, 
my friend, and see what ’appens. You talk a lot, 
but I vurry much doubt whether you can do any- 
thing else.” 

Payne in the chair made his hammer heard above 
the din of contending voices, and then, standing 
up, shook the hammer threateningly. If they did 
not at once stop their row, said Payne, he, as Chair- 
man, would have to consider the advisability of jolly 
well doing something; having given this vague 
threat Payne conferred with Erb in a whisper. 

“ Tell you what occurs to me,” said Payne, with 
a weak pretence of proclaiming an idea of his own. 
“ Let’s hear what friend Lindsay has to say, and 
if there’s anything in it, why no doubt our friend 
the secretary will reply.” 

“ On a point of order — ” said Spanswick, rising. 

“ I should like to point out — ” began a Great 
Western man in the corner. 

“ Seems to me that the proper course to pur- 
sue — ” said another. 

The Chair hammered away noisily. A half- 
minute of strenuous tumult, and the noise subsided. 
Lindsay, of St. Pancras, rose, buttoning his jacket ; 
this done he unbuttoned it again, continuing this 


“ERB” 


199 


eccentric action during the whole of his speech. He 
had some difficulty in finding words at first, but 
irritating comments from Spanswick served to en- 
courage him, and he succeeded in recapitulating 
charges which it seemed had been made by certain 
members, now coy and reserved, against the secre- 
tary during the previous half-hour; these Lindsay 
emphasised by a suggestion that friend Barnes was 
using the society only for his own personal advance- 
ment (at this there was a shout of protest from 
most of the members that made Erb, his gaze fixed 
on the blank sheet of white foolscap before him, 
tingle with satisfaction). When having made his 
fiercest rush, Lindsay, of St. Pancras, showed signs 
of wavering, it was Spanswick who pricked him 
again into fury with a banderillo question to an- 
other neighbour : “ But what was the real reason 
why the gel wouldn’t have him ? ” asked Spanswick. 

Lindsay from St. Pancras, waving his arms exci- 
tedly, cried now in a scream that they were paying a 
princely salary to a man who thought he could 
twist the society round his little finger; who went 
about mixing with the nobs and getting his name 
into the papers; who lorded it over everybody, or 
tried to ; who, to put it briefly, and to put it finally, 
was trying to push everybody else off the earth. 
Lindsay begged to move that the secretary, Her- 
bert Barnes, be requested to hand in his resignation 
without delay. 

Lindsay, of St. Pancras, sat down, grumbling 
to himself in an undertone, his head still shaking 


200 


“ERB” 


with excitement. There was more applause than 
one would have expected, applause being a thing 
that can be created furtively by the stamping of 
feet hidden under the table. Erb rose. As he 
did so, Spanswick, with his right arm raised, a remi- 
niscence of Board School manners, rose also, and 
claimed the attention of Payne in the chair. 

“ I consider it an insult,” said Spanswick loudly, 
“ to allow our friend the secretary to answer the 
ridic’lous attack that has been made upon him. I 
claim the right to reply on his behalf.” Erb sat 
down. “ It’s all very well for men to talk who’ve 
never been tempted either by the attractions of ’igh 
society, or — what shall I say — the allurements and 
what not that titled parties, be they gentlemen or 
be they ladies, can offer, but put them in our friend 
Erb’s position, and wouldn’t they make mistakes 
the same as he has ? Course they would ! Besides, 
there’s this to be said ” 

Spanswick, going on with elaborate replies to 
attacks that had never been made, did not look at 
Erb, preferring to direct his argument to the con- 
tumacious Lindsay and his friends : the cheers from 
Erb’s supporters which greeted Spanswick’s start 
diminished in volume as he went on. 

“ Drop it ! ” whispered somebody to him. “ Drop 
it, old man, before you spile it.” 

When Spanswick came to a finish of his in- 
genious Mark Antony speech the room was left 
with the impression that charges of a very serious 
nature had been brought against Erb, and that the 


“ERB” 


201 


principal defence to be urged was the fact of Erb’s 
youth and inexperience. Erb, recognising the dam- 
age that Spanswick’s advocacy had effected, started 
up to argue the case from his own point of view, 
but he was again anticipated by a supporter, this 
time by a man on whose loyalty he could depend, 
although his stock of discretion had limits. 

“ I claim the right to say a few words ! ” shout- 
ed the new man. The room cried, “ Erb, Erb, 
Erb ! ” being, it seemed, anxious to see if the case 
could possibly be readjusted, and wishful, at any 
rate, to see the effort made. 

“ Take five minutes,” ordered the Chair. 

“ I can do it in under that,” said the other gen- 
erously. “ If it’s a case of argument by Words, I 
think I’m equal to it: if it’s case of argument by 
fists, I jolly well know I am. Understand that, my 
fine friend ! ” he added, addressing Lindsay. 

Lindsay of St. Pancras, at a loss for a good 
repartee, suggested rather wearily that the speaker 
should go home and fry his face. The room looked 
on this as wanting in finish, and to Lindsay’s con- 
fusion gave it no applause. 

“ You come from St. Pancras, I believe? Very 
well; I’ll St. Pancras you before I’ve done with 
you.” 

“ Do it ! ” cried Lindsay, annoyed by the failure 
of his retort. “ You do it, that’s all ! ” 

Lindsay slipped from his seat, and, evading the 
efforts made by neighbours to detain him, went 
quickly to the side of the speaker. The Chair half 


202 


“ERB” 


rose, his hammer uplifted. Erb stood up with a 
pained look. 

“ Here I am,” said Lindsay, offering his scarlet 
face to Erb’s supporter. “ Now show us what you 
can do.” 

The invitation was one not to be declined. The 
loud smack on the scarlet face made Lindsay stag- 
ger ; the next moment he had seized a wooden chair, 
and the speaker had similarly armed himself. 
Voices in the room shouted, Payne hammered on 
the table before him, everybody, in an excited way, 
begged everybody else to keep calm. Erb made his 
way, thrusting aside the intervening arm, to the 
quarter of the room where the two men were facing 
each other. Lindsay swung his chair, and the other 
guarded; the two chairs broke noisily, and left the 
two disputants holding a single wooden leg. Spans- 
wick remarked that Lindsay seemed about as suc- 
cessful in undertakings of this kind as in his love 
affairs, and the St. Pancras youth, goaded by this, 
brought the leg of the chair viciously down on the 
head of his opponent. A red line matted the hair; 
the room filled with uproar. 

“ Stop ’em ! Keep ’em apart ! ” 

“ Let ’em fight it out ! Stand back and let ’em 
finish it ! ” 

“ Leave off shoving me then ! Eve got as good a 
right to look on as you have. For two pins ” 

“ The other one began it. He asked for it.” 

“ I beg your pardon, he did nothing of the kind 
whatsoever. Keep your elbows out of the way, or 


“ERB” 


203 


else I'll serve you like he served him. Yes, and 
quick about it, too ! ” 

The sight of blood excited all to the point of ill- 
temper. Two, with the best intentions, held Erb 
firmly, screaming to him urgent recommendations to 
keep cool, and as Erb was the only man in the room 
capable of exercising any control over the members, 
there seemed no reason why the disturbance should 
not go on for all time; the arrival of the landlord 
with a threat of police caused the two men to loosen 
their hold of Erb, and he, with a fierce remark con- 
demning the stupidity of all, freed himself, and 
took charge of the proceedings. Ordered Payne 
to turn the landlord out and lock the door. Directed 
his supporters to resume their seats. Found the de- 
canter, the contents of which had been only partly 
upset, and, pouring water into the palm of his hand, 
bathed the damaged man’s head. Commanded 
Lindsay to stand away at the end of the room by 
himself, which that young man did, to his own 
astonishment, in the manner of a penitent school- 
boy. Gave orders to members of one or two dis- 
putant groups, causing them to separate and occupy 
themselves with other duties. Whispered to Payne. 
Payne went back to his chair and his hammer. 

“ Friends,” cried Payne, mopping his forehead, 
“ this meeting’s going to be adjourned for ’alf a 
hower so as to get cool.” 

Most of the men went downstairs, and in the 
bar discussed the tumultuous event with hushed 
voices, that outsiders might not share the knowl- 


204 


“ERB” 


edge; they were not quite certain whether to be 
proud of the incident or ashamed. Erb told off two 
men to take his damaged advocate to a chemist’s, 
and, giving no answer to inquiries concerning his 
intentions, went out, and walked up and down 
Grange Road alone. He saw the whole case clearly ; 
admitted that his popularity had received a shock ; 
recognised the true inwardness of Spanswick’s in- 
tervention, and foresaw the difficulties that would 
obstruct his path if he should lose his position. Not 
seeing Rosalind this evening was, he now felt, an 
augury of bad luck; he would be glad when the 
night was over and done with. 

“ This ain’t my birthday,” said Erb grimly. 

All the same, something had to be done. Indi- 
vidual men one could deal with, but with men in a 
lump you could only safely count on their unrelia- 
bility. Erb stopped at a furniture shop and tried to 
guess the identity of a young man with hat tipped 
back and forehead creased with thought; the face 
looked familiar, and it was only on approaching that 
he discovered it was his own reflection in a long 
mirror marked in chalk, “ A Rare Bargain. Late 
the Property of a Club.” He laughed and went 
back. 

“ I don’t want to make a speech,” he said quiet- 
ly. The room had refilled, members conducting 
themselves with a studied decorum almost painful 
to behold ; the smoke had escaped by the open win- 
dows, and it was possible to see everything clearly. 
“ It appears that there’s some dissatisfaction.” 


“ERB” 


205 


“ No, no ! ” said voices. 

“ There’s some dissatisfaction,” repeated Erb de- 
terminedly, “ and it doesn’t really matter much 
whether it’s grounded or not. No society can go 
on like this with success under these circumstances. 
I started this society ” 

“ Earear!” 

“ And I tell you candidly, I feel mudi more in- 
terested in the prosperity of this society than I do 
iii the prosperity of myself. I’m a single man, I 
regret to — I mean to say I’m a single man, and as 
a single man, I can find something else to do.” 

Members looked at each other with concern. 

“ That is why, Mr. Chairman, I address myself 
to you, because you’re an old friend and a — and a 
good sort.” Payne blinked at the compliment. 
“ And I hand to you, old chum, this letter that I’ve 
just written out, which contains ” 

The room leaned forward to listen. 

“ Contains my resignation.” Erb sat down. 

A murmur started slowly near the Chairman and 
went down the table, increased its pace and its vol- 
ume, and came back to Erb in the condition of an 
angry remonstrance. Half a dozen men rose. 

“ I give notice,” said Spanswick, “ that at the 
next meeting I shall move the appointment of a new 
secretary.” 

“ At the next meeting,” said a Cannon Street 
man, who had never heard his own voice raised in 
public speech before, and seemed himself astonished 
by the novelty, “ at the next meeting you’ll damn 
14 


206 


“ERB” 


well do nothing of the kind.” The room roared 
its approval. “We don’t want a new secretary, be- 
cause we ain’t a going to get rid of the old one. 
The position isn’t vacant. I move, Mr. Chairman, 
or second, or whatever you call it, that that letter 
what you’ve got in your hand be given back to our 
friend Erb, and that he be asked or invited or re- 
quested — I don’t know how you put these things 
— to tear it up and forget all about it; I will now 
conclude my few remarks by asking you to join 
me in a well-known song.” 

“ F — or he's a jolly good faillow, 

For he’s ” 

The room sang the refrain with enthusiasm ; the 
man with the broken head came, bandaged, and 
joined in. Spanswick, recognising that the game 
for the present was over, beat time. 

“ That’s all right, then,” said Payne, when the 
hurrahing stopped. “ Now, let’s get on to the next 
business. ‘ Proposed starting of a new paper to 
be called “ The Carman.” ’ ” 


CHAPTER XII 


The incident revealed to Erb the fact that the 
men’s support and confidence had something of a 
tidal nature. He had watched, sometimes with 
amusement, always with interest, the state of other 
leaders — from high water, when they could swim 
luxuriously, to low water, when they were left 
stranded ludicrously on the beach ; it had not before 
occurred to him that he himself might encounter a 
similar experience; he determined now to make his 
position as secure as possible. In this effort he re- 
lied a good deal on the new journal he was prepar- 
ing, the first number of which was to bear on the 
front page the words, “ Edited by Herbert C. 
Barnes.” Lady Frances had written on the subject 
of labour — 

“ Oh horny-handed sons of toil, 

Who spin and weave and dig in mines.” 

Erb, summoned to Eaton Square to take charge 
of this (the risk of loss in the post being too great 
to endure), had ventured to point out to the poetess, 
with, of course, great respect, that it would have 
been more appropriate to introduce something about 
kindness to horses and the difficulties occasioned by 

207 


208 


“ERB” 


the stress and turmoil of traffic ; Lady Frances, lis- 
tening with a slight frown on her young forehead, 
answered that she was much obliged, that she 
thought she saw her way to another poem to be 
called “ Sturm und Drang,” but she felt it would 
be unwise to touch the first effort ; good poetry 
was always dashed off on the impulse of the mo- 
ment. 

“ I didn’t know that,” remarked Erb, with defer- 
ence. 

So poem Number One was to go in, please, ex- 
actly as she had written it, and on the day the paper 
came out would Erb oblige her very much by com- 
ing to dinner at Eaton Square. 

“ Dinner ? ” echoed Erb amazedly. 

Coming to dinner at Eaton Square, and bring- 
ing with him one, or perhaps more, copies. 

“ What about an evening suit, Lady Frances? ” 

The managerial young woman had thought of 
that ; her uncle and a few more men would be pres- 
ent, and, to make the dinner quite informal, they 
would wear morning dress. No, no, please, no 
excuses of any kind. Lady Frances was going to 
see her tailor in Maddox Street, and she could give 
Erb a lift so far. The tall maid (who was Miss 
Luker of the dance) being rung for, brought in hat 
and cloak, and helped her young mistress with 
them, giving no glance towards Erb, and the two 
went downstairs together. Seated at the side of 
Lady Frances, he was watched curiously by the 
drivers of one or two railway vans, who, in their 


“ERB” 


209 


anxiety to verify what appeared to be a dream, 
looked round by the side, allowing thus their blink- 
ered horses to peer into omnibuses and nibble at 
conductors’ hats, necessitating a swift exchange of 
the kind of repartee in which the London driver is a 
past master. When Erb stepped out at Maddox 
Street and raising his hat started back to a point 
whence he could walk to his office at Bermondsey, 
Erb noticed that Lady Frances had a look on her 
face that might come to one who advanced the 
cause of millions and, by an act of her own, had 
made a whole world glad. It would be quite unfair 
to suggest that at this period Erb was by way of 
becoming a snob, but it would be untrue to say that 
he had any objection to the soft, pleasant scent, the 
well-bred air, the gracious manner that he found 
with Lady Frances. It is also right to say that 
directly he had left her he began to think of Rosa- 
lind and of his work. At this period sometimes one 
came first, sometimes the other. 

“ Dinner ! ” he said to himself. 

“ Me at dinner at Eaton Square. ’Pon my life, 
this is the funniest world I ever saw.” 

He retained his old habit of talking as he went 
along the London streets, and people in a hurry 
stopped on noticing this, and delivered themselves 
of an opinion in regard to his sanity. In this way 
he often had long talks with Rosalind of an ex- 
tremely fervent nature ; Rosalind helping him with 
a few coy questions, all in a way that had never yet 
found realisation ; his fluency in these rehearsals as- 


210 


“ERB” 


tonished him sometimes as much as his inexcusable 
awkwardness when he called at Camberwell. 

“ I’m a bit of a muddler,” he confessed in Wa- 
terloo Place, “ where women are concerned. In 
other matters, now — Look where you’re coming, 
stupid ! ” 

Spanswick, red faced, short necked, and pim- 
pled, addressed in this way, was walking backwards 
in the inconvenient manner adopted by some on 
crowded pavements who wish to review scenes 
that have passed; it was a silken ankle stepping 
into a carriage that had clipped Spanswick’s atten- 
tion. 

“ What ho ! ” cried Spanswick. “ Still a lordin’ 
it, Erb, old man? Kind of a amphibious animal, 
ain’t you ? ” 

“ I can swim ! ” said Erb. 

“ The best swimmers get drownded sometimes.” 

“ Not more than once.” 

“ Talking of which,” said Spanswick cheerily, 
“ are you going to stand us a drink ? ” 

“ No,” replied Erb. 

“ Ah, well,” said Spanswick with an effort, “ me 
and you can’t afford to quarrel. We’ve both got 
our axes to grind. Whereabouts is Pall Mall ? ” 

“ You’re in it now. It runs up that way to the 
bottom of St. James’s Street.” 

“ That’s the best of ’aving been a parcels car- 
man,” sighed Spanswick enviously. “ I was never 
anything but a goods man, and I never had no 
chances of getting amongst the aristocracy as you 


“ERB” 


2 1 1 


have. Otherwise I should meet you on equal terms. 
How’s the young woman ? ” 

“ What young woman ? ” 

“ Are there so many of ’em as all that ? Seems 
to me,” remarked Spanswick thoughtfully, “ that 
some of you lead a double life. You’ll come a crop- 
per over it some day, mark my words.” 

“ I’ll mark your face,” retorted Erb with a sud- 
den burst of annoyance. “ I’ve put up with just 
about enough from you. I may be your secretary, 
but I’m not your slave.” 

“ Old man, don’t let’s go kicking up a common 
fracass here. You don’t understand my style of 
humour. This newspaper, or journal, or organ, or 
whatever you like to call it — how’s it going ? ” 

“ Well,” said Erb, returning to good temper. 
“ I find I’m having to do it pretty nigh all myself. 
There’s another column to do now before the first 
number’s ready.” 

“ I’m pretty ’andy with me pen,” remarked the 
other. “ I don’t prefess to be a literary man, of 
course, but — I’ll send you in a few items of 
news.” 

“ I shall be ever so much obliged to you. Make 
’em smart and readable, mind.” 

“ I’ll make ’em smart,” said Spanswick. 

It seemed to Erb, on the day “ The Carman ” was 
to appear, that something special of a less selfish 
character than the dinner in Eaton Square should be 
arranged to mark the event. What he vaguely desired 
was to give an outing to Louisa — the short sister 


212 


“E R B " 


had become too weak to take public promenade, and 
the current young man had to shout to her of an 
evening, gripping the railings in Page’s Walk. Erb 
had some daring thought of inviting Rosalind, and 
taking them both up the river. This detail of the 
plan he accepted and rejected, and accepted and re- 
jected again ; meeting Rosalind herself one evening 
in the strenuous fight for trams on the Surrey side 
of Blackfriars Bridge, he, after protecting her in the 
struggle up the steps, and allowing himself in the 
carrying out of his duty to press the plump arm 
above the elbow, found himself in the mood of ac- 
cepting the detail, and he submitted the proposal 
in a way meant to be deferential, which, however, 
came out quite brusque and defiant. “ Ever been 
to Battersea Park ? ” he asked gruffly. Rosalind had 
never been to Battersea Park. “ Care to go ? ” Rosa- 
lind was so busy that she feared — “ Pm going to 
take Louisa.” In that case (with a flush that went 
partly over her face and then ran away), in that case 
Rosalind would be very pleased. “ Must be 
Wednesday next,” said Erb shortly. Wednesday 
was rather an awkward day, because there was a 
pupil at half-past one, who came in her dinner hour, 
and another at three. “ Put her off,” commanded 
Erb. Very well, then, the three o’clock pupil should 
be off ; Rosalind declared she would be thinking of 
the afternoon every hour of the day until it arrived. 
“ So shall I,” said Erb shortly. Had Erb seen Lady 
Frances lately? “ We can’t bear to be apart,” said 
Erb, in a tone meant to be jocular. 




“ERB” 


213 


There were times when the one thing certain 
seemed to be that by no possible chance could the 
first number of “ The Carman ” come out on the day 
appointed. The printers did not place the impor- 
tance of the undertaking so high as Erb did; diffi- 
cult to make them understand the importance of 
producing it on the day fixed; the foreman of the 
noisy, rattling printing establishment in Southwark 
said frankly that the world having done without 
the journal for so long, no great hurt could be occa- 
sioned if it should be a day or two late. 

But on the day, their van drove up to the door- 
way of the office where Erb and some of the com- 
mittee were waiting, and a minute later each man 
had a copy in his hands, his eyes fixed on the grati- 
fying place where his own name appeared. Erb 
had taken ingenious care to mention as many names 
as possible, and, because of this, railway vans sent, 
say, from Paddington to Haverstock Hill, made a 
slight detour and called at Bermondsey for copies. 
There were some misprints, and one man, whose 
Christian name was given as John instead of James, 
cancelled his subscription instantly, and prophesied 
a gloomy future for the paper. Erb demanded 
opinions, and discovered to his regret, that nearly 
every line in the small paper received condemnation 
from somebody (personal paragraphs about high 
officials in the railway world alone excepted), the 
fact being that the readers of “ The Carman ” misap- 
prehended the question, and assumed, when asked 
for an opinion, that they were invited to give ad- 


214 


U ERB” 


verse judgment; a thing that has happened with 
other critics in other circumstances. 

But the particular copies presented to Louisa 
and to Rosalind extorted from these young women, 
on their way slowly to Cherry Garden Pier, unquali- 
fied approval. On the pier, where they waited for 
the steamer coming up from Greenwich, the two 
ladies read again the printed references to them- 
selves. 

“ Yours,” said Erb importantly, fanning himself 
with his straw hat, “ yours is what we newspaper 
people call a dummy ad.” 

“ I can pay for mine,” said Rosalind quickly. 

“ You’ll do nothing of the sort,” retorted Erb. 
“ Read it out!” 

She read it with a flush of gratification on her 
young face, Erb looking over her shoulder. The 
scent of brown Windsor came to him. 

“ ‘ Miss Rosalind Danks,’ ” she read, “ ‘ Pro- 
fessor of Elocution, Declamation, Gesture, et cet- 
era, et cetera. Number so-and-so Southampton 
Street, Camberwell, S.E. Schools attended. Pri- 
vate lessons given. Assisted by Mr. Reginald C. 
Danks, formerly of the principal West End the- 
atres. “ We shall never forget his Montgiron.” — 
Vide Press.’ ” 

“ Now yours, Louisa.” 

A break in his short sister’s voice betokened 
uncontrollable pride. 

“‘We are glad to say that Miss L. Barnes, 
younger sister of our secretary, is slowly recovering 


“ERB” 


215 


from a rather serious illness.' “ First time,” said 
Louisa, waving the journal in the air, “ the very 
first time my name’s ever been in print.” 

“ May I suggest, Mr. Editor,” said Rosalind, 
leading him to the iron chain that protected the edge 
of the pier, “ that it is a little clumsy to express 
satisfaction at slow recovery? It wasn’t what you 
meant.” 

“ Don’t let on to her about it,” urged Erb dis- 
tressed. “ I haven’t got quite the hang of writing. 
Is there anything else you noticed ? ” 

“ Nothing of importance.” 

“ Tell us,” begged the anxious editor, “ and get 
it over.” 

“ These personal paragraphs, headed ‘ What we 
Want to Know.’ ” 

“ The men all liked them.” 

“ A little spiteful,” she said quietly. “ Calculated 
to hurt somebody. I shouldn’t, if I were you. This 
one, for instance.” 

“ We’ll drop ’em in number two. Here’s our 
boat coming.” 

Some particular people complain of the river 
steamers, but the “ Flying Arrow ” that took charge 
of the three at London Bridge-, and conveyed them 
up under railway bridges, and past embankments, 
and by the terrace of the House of Commons — Erb 
waved his straw hat to his friend the white-haired 
labour member, and the labour member waved in 
return in such a friendly manner that other passen- 
gers became at once interested in Erb, and whis- 


2l6 


“ERB” 


pered (to Louisa’s great satisfaction), “ Who is he? 
Who is he, eh? ” — by the Tate Gallery, and between 
unattractive stores, Nine Elms way, the “ Flying 
Arrow,” I say, for these three young people might 
have been a gaily caparisoned barge lent by Cleo- 
patra ; the gramaphone that squeaked out songs in 
a ghostly, unnatural tone of voice, a selected troupe 
from the Royal Italian Opera ; and the changes that 
the atmosphere took from inexpensive cigars and 
cheap tobaccos, the choicest perfumes from Old 
Bond Street. The top note of satisfaction was 
reached when Erb, invited to political debate by the 
self-confident captain, worsted that uniformed offi- 
cial with the greatest possible ease, and sent him 
back limp to the bridge, to resume a profession for 
which he was qualified. Disappointing, perhaps, to 
find that people on the steamboat who studied litera- 
ture were not applying themselves to “ The Car- 
man,” devoting their minds, instead, to cheap jour- 
nals, which offered German pictures (second-hand), 
with American jokes underneath, not absolutely 
new. Erb left two copies of “ The Carman,” one 
aft and one at the other end, and the girls watched 
results ; a lad with a bulgy forehead took up a copy 
and read it with languid interest; he presently 
dropped it on the deck, and a waiter in a bowler hat 
who came along at that moment threw it into the 
river, where it drifted away helplessly. The other 
copy seemed likely to taste more of success, for a 
woman seized it with every sign of delight ; when 
she proceeded to wrap up a pair of boots in the new 


“E R B” 


217 


journal Erb felt annoyed. *But it was not easy to 
remain in this state with a cheerful young woman 
like Louisa, or with a more sedate but equally agree- 
able person like Rosalind, and they presently had 
a great game of pretending that they were royalty 
on a tour round the world, so that Nine Elms pier 
became Gibraltar, and a few minutes later they were 
going through the Suez Canal, which others called 
Battersea Bridge. On reaching Sydney (which had 
no harbour to speak of, but possessed a wobbling pier 
marked Battersea Park) they disembarked with most 
of the other voyagers, some of whom had decided 
that the three were either theatrical people or not 
quite right in their heads. As they went up the 
wooden gangway and entered the Park, Louisa had 
colour in her white cheeks, and, declining assistance 
of her companions, ordered them to give each other 
their arms. Which they did for a moment only. 

“ Shan’t go to that dinner this evening,” said 
Erb. 

“ I think you will,” remarked Rosalind. 

“ Catch you,” said Louisa satirically, “ catch you 
missing a chance like that.” 

“ I shan’t go. I don’t want anything better ’n 
this.” 

“ You’ll have to,” decided Louisa. “ And come 
back and tell us all about it. I’d give anything to 
see Alice’s face when she hears you’ve been up- 
stairs.” 

“ I’d forgot about Alice.” 

“ She’s forgot about us,” retorted Louisa. 


2l8 


“ERB” 


“ That’s the worst of tall people, they always look 
down on you. How’d it be if I sat down here 
for a bit and let you two walk on and come back 
for me?” 

“ And leave you alone ? ” asked Rosalind. 

“ I can set here and laugh at the foreigners,” 
she remarked. 

Erb and Rosalind made Louisa comfortable on 
a chair, and left her applying herself once more to 
the intellectual delight of again reading through 
“ The Carman,” with special attention to the para- 
graph that concerned herself. Just before they went 
out of sight of her, in going round the circle where 
bicycles were swishing along, they turned and 
waved their hands : she unpinned her straw hat and 
lifted it in a gentlemanly way. 

“ I wonder,” said Erb thoughtfully, “ whether 
she’s going to make old bones.” 

“ I shouldn’t let her go again to that work of 
hers.” 

“ If anything serious happened,” he said slowly, 
“ I’d make such a stir about the business that they’d 
have to shut up the factory.” 

“ That wouldn’t bring her back,” remarked 
Rosalind. 

“ Back ? ” Erb stopped affrighted. “ Why you 
don’t think — you don’t fancy for a moment, do you, 
that she’s going to — ” They walked on quickly 
for a while. “ My goodness,” he cried excitedly, 
“ I’d tear the place down for them ! There shouldn’t 
be a stone left ! I’d get questions asked about the 


“ERB” 


219 


business in Parliament ! I’d organise meetings. I’d 
make London get white hot about it! I’d never 
let ’em rest. I’d set every society at ’em. We’d 
get up demonstrations in the streets. We’d ” 

“ Don’t let’s get cross about anything,” said 
Rosalind. “ I want to look back on to-day when 
I get into my dull moments.” 

“ You never get dull.” 

“ I suppose nobody’s life is perfectly happy.” 

“ I say,” said Erb, walking nearer to her and 
speaking in an undertone. “ You never worry 
about that chap Railton, do you ? ” 

“ Not — not very often.” 

“ That’s right,” he said. “ You know there’s no 
man in this world that is worth a single tear from 
your eyes.” 

“ Don’t talk about me as though I were perfect.” 

“ You wouldn’t be perfect,” said Erb, “ if it 
wasn’t for your faults.” 

They talked of Louisa, and reckoned up amused- 
ly her long list of engagements. From this Erb 
went on to a short lecture on the time that some 
wasted over affairs of the heart, urging that there 
were other matters of equal or greater interest in 
life, such as the joy of getting on better than other 
people, and thus extorting the open envy, the 
cloaked admiration of colleagues. He succeeded 
at last in minimising the value of love to such a 
small amount that his companion ceased to give 
any consenting words, and, noticing her silence, 
he recognised that he was outrunning her approval ; 


220 


“ERB” 


he had to hark back to the point where her silence 
had commenced to hint at want of agreement. They 
read the wooden labels on preposterous-looking 
trees, and invented names of like manner for them- 
selves : Erb delivered a brief address from the banks 
of the lake to the swans on the water, urging them 
to form a society of their own and to fight to the 
last feather for their rights : they found a long broad 
avenue under trees that leaned across at the top, 
and a perfectly new Rosalind offered, in a sportive 
way that amazed Erb and gratified him, to race 
him as far as a mail-cart, and Erb starting, took 
no trouble over what appeared an easy task, with 
the result that he reached the winning-post badly 
beaten by the limping girl by several yards, and 
forced to endure from the baby occupant of a mail- 
cart a sneer of contempt. They rested after this, 
and, whilst Erb fanned her with his copy of “ The 
Carman,” Rosalind talked of her father, and, in- 
stead of becoming serious as usual when the old 
Professor occupied her thoughts, told with great 
enjoyment the story of a great week once at Little- 
hampton when they were playing “ East Lynne ” 
with a fit-up company to such imperfectly filled 
houses that it became certain there would be not 
only no money with which to pay the excellent land- 
lady on Sunday morning, but scarce a penny to 
buy food on Saturday. Of aforesaid excellent land- 
lady coming in on the Saturday night and mak- 
ing one of eight people in the pit, and being so 
affected by the performance by Rosalind as little 


“ERB” 


221 


Willy, and moved to such anguish of tears by the 
scene, that she bustled out between the last acts, 
purchased a sheep’s head at the butcher’s, had a 
fragrant, gorgeous supper ready for the Professor 
and Rosalind on their hungry return, and came in 
after the meal, when the two had searched once 
more for an emergency exit from the situation, with 
formal announcement to the effect that she knew 
quite well that they hadn’t a shilling to bless them- 
selves with, that her native town in regard to appre- 
ciation of the dramatic art was past praying for; 
that Rosalind was a little dear, and that, for her 
part, if she touched a copper of their non-existent 
money she would never again know a moment’s 
peace : the landlady begged two favours, and two 
favours only — first, that she might give the little girl 
a good hug; second, that she might be permitted 
to stay up and bake them a meat and potato pie 
that would keep their bodies and souls together on 
to-morrow’s journey. 

They remembered Louisa presently, and went 
back to the white-faced girl, who had found com- 
pany in a penny novelette left on the seat by some- 
one tired of literature, and who made them go 
away again until she ascertained whether the young 
woman in the story married the brilliant young jour- 
nalist or the middle-aged Peer. When justice had 
been done by presentation of the prize to brains, 
and the House of Lords, resigning itself without a 
murmur, had given its blessing and a cheque, she 
called them back, and the three held council in re- 
15 


222 


“ERB n 


gard to the dinner in Eaton Square. Erb was still 
inclined to be obstinate, but the two young women 
were equally determined, and they took him across 
the bridge into King’s Road, where the committee 
purchased for him a new neck-tie, the while they 
sent him away to wash his face and hands. They 
left him presently at Sloane Square, and went home 
to Bermondsey, because Louisa was now forced to 
confess that she had become tired ; Rosalind having 
the evening free, and being anxious to hear the 
report of Erb’s experience in Eaton Square, offered 
to read to her in Page’s Walk. 

Events progressed in Page’s Walk to the point 
of a cozy chat, where Louisa defied sleep in order 
to recite to Rosalind in their due order the circum- 
stances of the many engagements from the respec- 
tive starts to the individual finishes, with imitations 
of the voice of each suitor, and occasionally a parody 
of the gait. It was in the middle of a diverting 
account of Number Five — who had at least one de- 
fect in that he had no roof to his mouth — that Erb 
returned. The two surrounded him, firing ques- 
tions. 

“ One at a time,” said Erb, good humoured, be- 
cause of the unexpected joy of seeing Rosalind 
again. “ One at a time. There were small things 
first, sardines and what not ” 

“ Hors d’ceuvres,” said Rosalind. 

“ I daresay. Anyhow, after that, soup.” 

“ Can’t stand soup,” remarked Louisa. “ There’s 
no stay in soup. Go on, Erb.” 


“ERB” 


223 


“ Now comes what I may term,” said Erb, “ the 
gist or point of this anecdote. The lady with the 
shoulders next to me ” 

“ I should faint if I found myself going out like 
that,” declared Louisa, interrupting again. “ How 
anyone can do it beats me. It’s like being caught 
in your disables.” 

“ The lady with the shoulders next to me turned 
and asked me something that I didn’t exactly catch, 
and I turned round rather suddenly and said, ‘ Beg 
pardon ? ’ Knocked the arm of the girl who was 
serving the fish, and as near upset the plate that she 
held in her hand as didn’t matter. I jumps up, and 
then for the first time I recognised it was Alice.” 

“ Wasn’t she took aback? ” 

“ Not half so much as I was,” said Erb. “ I 
suppose being rather a large dinner party they’d 
laid her on extra. Of course, I shook hands with 
her and said, ‘ Hullo, Alice, how’s the world using 
you?’” 

“ Well, you are,” said Louisa with horror, “ ab- 
solutely the biggest juggins I ever come across.” 

“ But what was I to do ? ” 

“ Do ? ” echoed the short sister. “ Do ? I could 
have soon shown you what to do. All you’d got 
to do was to take no notice of her. Ignore her! 
Look past her ! Pretend she wasn’t there ! You’ll 
never get asked again, that’s a very sure thing.” 

“ I don’t care,” answered Erb. “ I’m an awk- 
ward chap in these West End circles. When I’m 
not in ’em I want to be there, and once I’m there 


224 


“ERB” 


I look round directly for an open door to slip 
out of.” 

“ And what did Miss Alice have to say for her- 
self?” asked Louisa, coming back to the incident 
with relish. 

“ Oh, she kept very cool, and she just whispered, 
‘ Sit down, Erb, and behave.’ ” 

“ That’s her all over.” 

“ They stared at me naturally enough, and 
young Lady Frances seemed a bit upset just for 
a moment, and nobody spoke for a bit, but after a 
while they were all chatting away again, and the 
party with the shoulders next to me began asking 
me what I thought of the new woman at Covent 
Garden. Then I put me foot in it again,” said Erb 
amusedly. “ I thought she meant the market.” 

“ How they’d pull you to pieces after you left,” 
remarked Louisa sighing. “ I can ’ear ’em saying 
things.” 

“ I can’t,” said Erb contentedly. “ And if I did 
I shouldn’t care. What would you have done,” he 
appealed to Rosalind, “ what would you have done, 
now, in similar circumstances ? ” 

Rosalind, as she put on her gloves, considered 
for a moment before replying. Then she leaned 
towards him and touched Erb’s knee lightly. 

“ I should have done,” she said, “ exactly as 
you did.” 

There were several reasons why Erb should not 
take her by the arms ; all these reasons jumped up 
before him as he rose and made a step forward. 


“ERB” 


225 


He stopped himself with an effort, and preceded 
her to the door. They went downstairs, and he 
walked bareheaded as far as the “ Lord Nelson.” 

“ You were never nearer being kissed,” he said 
to her ear, “ in all your life.” 

“ Please, please,” she said reprovingly. 

Erb went back to Page’s Walk checked and 
cooled by this reproof. The prospect that he had 
had momentarily in his mind of the small house 
close to Wandsworth Common, with a billiard table 
lawn at the back, at a time when he, perhaps, would 
be in the House, unique among all labour mem- 
bers by reason of having a wife who could be in- 
troduced with confidence, was dismissed with a 
caution. 

“ Letter for you, Erb, on the mantel,” cried 
Louisa from her room. “ It’s just been sent over. 
Good-night ! ” 

A portentous envelope, addressed to the Editor 
of “ The Carman.” Erb sliced it with his penknife. 
The large letter paper was folded in three. 

“ Sir, 

“ We have been consulted by our client, Sir 
William Durmin, with reference to the libellous 
statement which appears in No. 1 of ‘ The Car- 
man.’ 

“ Our client cannot allow such statements to be 
made, and our instructions are to issue a writ with- 
out further notice. 

“ If you wish to avoid personal service, please 


226 


“ERB” 


supply us by return of post with the name of your 
solicitor who will accept service on your behalf. 

“ Yours faithfully.” 

“ Now,” said Erb, “ the band’s beginning to 
play.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


If publicity at any cost be a good thing for a 
new journal, then “ The Carman ” had no right 
whatever to complain. The men belonging to the 
Society felt exultant at references to the impending 
action. It seemed that they were defying Capital 
as Capital had never been defied before. They told 
each other, when they met at receiving offices and 
railway stations, that Capital was going to have a 
nasty show up. Erb looked forward to the strug- 
gle with eagerness, until he had a meeting with 
Spanswick, the writer of the paragraph; that ama- 
teur journalist admitted, at the end of a keen cross- 
examination, that he had, perhaps, erred in stating 
that he knew the statement as a fact of his own 
knowledge : he remembered now that it had been re- 
lated to him by a chap of his acquaintance, who was 
either on the Great Eastern or the South Western, 
he would not swear which, and he confessed to the 
indignant Erb that he could no more place his hand 
on this man’s shoulders and produce him at the 
Law Courts “ than the dead.” Erb told Spanswick 
exactly what he thought of him, and Spanswick, 
penitent, declared that it would be a warning for the 
future : he would not have had this happen for forty 
thousand pounds. If Erb required him to go into 

227 


228 


“ERB” 


a witness-box he would guarantee to say on oath 
just whatever Erb wished him to say. This sport- 
ing offer being declined, Spanswick went with 
downcast head, and examined the lining of his cap, 
as though hopeful that some solution of the diffi- 
culty would be found there. Once clear of the place 
he gave on the wooden flags of a cellar in Grange 
Road a few steps of a dance, which seemed to inti- 
mate that his regret was but a cloak that could be 
discarded without much difficulty. 

No easy thing to keep up an attitude of hopeful- 
ness before the men whilst searching uselessly for 
facts to justify the Spanswick paragraph; but this 
was a mere diversion compared with the trouble that 
came to him the following week. Louisa was at 
home again after a few days of work at the factory, 
and Erb, going one afternoon to Page’s Walk for 
some correspondence, encountered the doctor who 
had called for a minute to see her. The doctor was 
a breathless, energetic man, whose fees were so 
small that, added up, they only made a living wage 
by reason of the number of his patients. 

“ Going on all right, doctor ? ” 

“ Yes, thanks,” replied the medical man, walking 
rapidly through the passage, and brushing his hat 
the while. “ Busy though ! Up to my eyes in 
work.” 

“ I was referring more particularly to my young 
sister.” 

“ Oh ! she ! Oh ! it’s what might be expected. 
Hideous occupation, I call it. One of those manu- 


“ERB” 


229 


factures that might well be left to foreigners. Good 
day!” 

“ One moment,” said Erb, placing a hand on the 
doctor’s arm, and speaking with great anxiety. 
“ Tell us exactly what you mean in plain language. 
Ought she to be sent away again ? ” 

“ You don’t want to waste money,” said the doc- 
tor, glancing at his watch. 

“ If it’s necessary for her health, I’d spend the 
last penny I’ve got.” 

“ Would you really?” The doctor seemed gen- 
uinely surprised. “ Well, then, perhaps she might 
get away to the country or the seaside or some- 
where.” 

“ May be the means of saving her life ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said the doctor cheerfully. “ I 
wouldn’t go so far as that.” 

Erb shook him violently. 

“ Why didn’t you tell me this before? You ” 

“ Thought you had the sense to see,” said the 
doctor curtly. “ Credited you with more intelli- 
gence apparently than you posesses. Good day ! ” 

Louisa resting upstairs in the one armchair de- 
clared that she had never felt better. It was only 
that she was tired, and had no appetite; but, then, 
see what a good thing it was to feel tired, and just 
imagine what a saving was effected by the absence 
of a craving for unlimited food! Erb did not tell 
his sister what the doctor had said, but his grave 
appearance hinted something, and Louisa declared 
not only that all doctors were fools, but went fur- 


230 


“ERB” 


ther, and asserted that most of them were born 
fools. All the same, she consented with some reluc- 
tance to go away. Erb went down to Camberwell, 
to see Rosalind and talk it over. At Camberwell, 
Rosalind, ready dressed for public promenade, came 
halfway dowrn the uneven pavement and met him, 
with both hands outstretched, just by Minerva. 
She had only that moment been speaking of him to 
the Professor, and the Professor had said that he, 
for his part, felt a keen desire to see Erb again. 

“ But we won’t see him,” she said, in a confiden- 
tial way that was very pleasing, “ because he will 
only want to borrow, and I am used to his borrow- 
ing from most people ; but it hurts when he borrows 
from you.” 

“ We’ll talk in the hall,” suggested Erb. 

“ In a whisper,” said Rosalind. 

The rare good point of talking in a whisper was 
that they were obliged to place their heads closely 
together. Erb explained the difficulty, and Rosa- 
lind, after considering for a moment, announced 
the decision in her emphatic way. School holidays 
would soon be on. She wanted to take a fortnight’s 
holiday herself: she would take Louisa away with 
her, either to Aunt Emma’s, at Penshurst, or, if the 
seaside was ordered, to Worthing. 

“ Spoiling your own holiday ! ” 

“ Not at all, not at all ! ” she answered decidedly. 
“ It’s going to be, any way.” 

“ But why should you trouble ? I could get 
Lady Frances — she’d do anything for me.” 


“ERB” 


231 


“ No doubt ! Find my umbrella there in the cor- 
ner — the one with the silver knob — and walk down 
with me to the school.” 

It was certainly very pleasant to see how the 
young woman, after a few moments of reserve, and 
in the presence of Erb’s depression, became brighter 
than usual, pushing away all her own trouble, and 
talking of the Professor’s last escapade as though 
it were the best joke in the world. The Professor, 
still declining in the service of the profession, had 
recently been offered the post of baggage man in a 
newly-starting provincial company, with the added 
duty of acting as understudies to the man who 
played the old City man in Act I., and the Chief of 
Police in Russia in Act IV. Professor, with many 
protestations and frequent appeals to the shades of 
Barry Sullivan and John Ryder and others, had ac- 
cepted the offer, and, securing on the Saturday 
night the sum of ten shillings in advance for the 
purpose of obtaining fine linen, appeared at St. Pan- 
eras station the next afternoon on the starting of 
the special, and denounced “ The Banker’s Blood ” 
Company, individually and generally, called upon 
Heaven to punish them for the attempt to degrade 
one who had trod the boards long before many of 
them had been allowed, mistakenly, to see the light 
of day, and altogether making such a furious scene 
on the platform, that the manager, consulting has- 
tily with other members of the company in the la- 
belled compartments, gave Rosalind’s father another 
half-sovereign to refrain from accompanying the 


232 


“ERB” 


party. All of which Rosalind told in such a merry 
way that Erb found himself for a time half wooed 
from melancholy. 

“ That blessed paper/’ he said, going back to 
trouble ruefully, “ has got me in a corner the very 
first start off.” 

“ It wants fifteen minutes to the hour/’ said 
Rosalind, looking up at the clock at the corner. 
“ Let’s walk round the Green and hear all about it.” 

Rosalind’s hopeful view of the matter was that 
it might be only what was called a “ try on,” and 
the statement of Erb that he felt he hadn’t a leg to 
stand on, she declared to be unworthy of him. 

Erb walked back to his office feeling that the talk 
had done good. It was certainly a great thing to find 
himself more hopeful in regard to Louisa. But he 
composed on the way a bitter, bitter paragraph 
concerning the firm in Neckinger Road and its 
occupation. This seemed so excellent, that he had 
half a mind to turn it into poetry, but there proved 
to be some difficulty in finding rhymes for “ mur- 
der ” and for “ dastardly,” and he allowed himself 
on arrival to write it in prose. The copy for num- 
ber three being made up, he deleted a humorous 
paragraph about a Bricklayers’ Arms man, whose 
wife had run away, and this made room. There was 
much in the lines themselves ; more to be read by 
those who could fill up the blank spaces interven- 
ing. Erb looked at it when he had crossed the t’s 
and dotted the i’s with the pride of a man who, with 
a mere dip of ink, could force monied folk to trem- 


“ERB” 


233 


ble. A fine thing to have control in this way over 
the printed word. 

All the more satisfactory to get on a grievance, 
which appeared to be solid, in that he eventually 
found that he had to step out apologetically from 
the corner into which Spanswick’s ingenuity had 
thrust him. There were, it appeared, no grounds 
whatever for the statement made, and in Feather- 
stone Buildings, Holborn, in a dim office with one 
light, under which he had to sit, whilst the two part- 
ners of the legal firm remained at the other end of 
the table in the shadow, he underwent, perhaps, 
the very worst quarter of an hour that he had en- 
dured since the time of schooldays. He had had to 
wait some time whilst one partner was sent for by 
the other. 

“ Then we may take it, Mr. Barnes, that you 
withdraw unreservedly every word of the para- 
graph in question ? ” 

“ That is so.” 

“ And you are prepared to offer every apology 
and every recompense that is in your power? ” asked 
the other partner. 

“ I don’t know,” said Erb, “ about recompense.” 

“Well, then, every apology?” 

“ I suppose I shall have to taste blacking,” he 
said. 

The two partners conferred for a long time in 
an undertone, the while Erb played nervously with a 
paper-knife. When one of them spoke he held his 
breath. 


234 


“ERB” 


“ If the paragraph had been copied into other 
journals, if it had had a wider circulation than that 
given by your little paper, Mr. Barnes, our client 
would have instructed us to go on with the legal pro- 
ceedings, and we should have asked for and ob- 
tained heavy damages. If the journal itself was not 
below contempt ” 

“ Look here ! ” interrupted Erb sharply, “ don’t 
you go rubbing it in too thick.” 

“ Sir William is a man with a large heart,” said 
the other partner, taking up a more conciliatory 
tone, “ and we shall advise him in the circumstances 
to do the generous thing. You will print in the 
next issue of your paper an apology ? ” 

“ A most humble apology,” remarked the other 
partner, “ terms of which you will permit us to dic- 
tate to you. He will not ask you to pay the costs 
already incurred, and you must think yourself con- 
foundedly ” 

“ He understands,” remarked the second part- 
ner. “ I am sure Mr. Barnes quite understands. 
Now let us see about drafting the apology.” 

“ I think I’d better see to that.” 

“ Now, my dear old friend,” urged the concilia- 
tory partner. 

A most abject apology it was, and the only en- 
couragement for Erb came from the severe part- 
ner, who recommended several additions intended 
to make it of a more cringing nature. Erb signed 
it after a moment’s hesitation, and gave a great sigh 
of relief when he found himself in Holborn again ; 


“ERB n 


235 


he knew that there would be some trouble in con- 
vincing his Committee that he had acted through- 
out with wisdom, but he had so much assurance in 
his own powers of speech, he had so often taken 
difficult positions by reason of his own generous 
ammunition of words, and of their short supply, that 
he felt confident of success. All the same, the inci- 
dent would do him no good, and a repetition would 
undoubtedly weaken his power. 

Number Three of “ The Carman ” came out 
rather opportunely, for he was able to present a copy 
to Rosalind and to Louisa on the day he saw them 
off from London Bridge. They were going to 
Worthing. Aunt Emma, who had not viewed the 
sea since childhood’s days, was going there from 
Penshurst in order to ascertain whether it had 
changed much. Louisa had to be taken to the 
station in a four-wheeler, and as she was helped 
along by her two companions through a rush of 
arriving City men, the girl seemed proud of the 
notice that her white face attracted. Erb recited 
the stinging paragraph that concerned Louisa’s 
late employers through the open carriage window, 
when Rosalind had made her patient comforta- 
ble with cushions. Two of Louisa’s sweethearts, 
friends in the presence of disaster, stood away 
against a lamp-post, and toyed with automatic 
machines. 

“ That’s one up against them,” said Louisa with 
relish. She smiled, but the look soon faded. 

“ If this don’t have any effect,” declared Erb. 


236 


“ERB” 


“ I shall follow it up with something stronger. I’ll 
never let go of ’em.” 

“ Shouldn’t like the other gels to lose their 
shops,” remarked Louisa apprehensively. 

“ But you wouldn’t see ’em all get ill like you 
are?” 

“ I’m not reely ill,” said Louisa. “ I’m only 
pretendin’. Besides, some gels can stand the work 
and some can’t.” 

“ Make her get better,” said Erb to Rosalind. 
“ Don’t let her have her own way too much.” 

“ Not much use having anyone else’s,” re- 
marked Louisa, with an effort at the old pert— 
ness. 

“ If she gets up to any of her nonsense send me 
a telegram.” 

“ I’ll write to you very often,” said Rosalind 
quietly. “ Let me know — let me know if you see 
Lady Frances.” 

The guard cried, “ Stand away ! ” and gave the 
signal to start. Erb put his head in and kissed his 
sister’s face. 

“ Might as well serve both alike,” suggested 
Louisa sportively. She rubbed her eyes with her 
glove. 

“ Don’t dare,” said Erb. 

One of the infatuated youths walked along with 
the train, and when Erb, with a wistful look in his 
eyes, fell back, the youth aimed a packet of choco- 
late, but either from nervousness or want of prac- 
tice, missed the compartment and sent it into the 


“ERB” 


237 


next, where four children pounced upon it with a 
high scream of delight. 

The violence of the paragraph concerning the 
Neckinger Road firm helped to appease those on 
the Committee who showed uneasiness in regard to 
what they called the “ climb down.” True, some of 
them remarked that the attacks on the Neckinger 
Road firm had nothing to do with the objects of the 
society, and Erb, reckoning up, found that he had 
lost the confidence of three, but a carman who had 
been discharged by the firm for slight inebriety — 
“I’m a man that varies,” said the ex-carman. 
“ Sometimes I may 'ave twenty pints, sometimes I 
may 'ave thirty pints, and then other days I may 
'ave quite a lot,” — came and begged permission 
to thank them for the public service that the journal 
was doing, and assured the Committee, with the air 
of one having exclusive information, that they 
would get their reward, in this world or in the next, 
or in both. As the reports from Rosalind at Worth- 
ing became less satisfactory, so the fierceness of the 
attacks in “ The Carman ” increased ; but it was 
not until a paragraph appeared headed “ Wilful 
Murder!” that Neckinger Road, after taking the 
previous outbursts with a calm that suggested 
it was either deaf or asleep, suddenly started up 
and took action in the most decided and emphatic 
manner. 

Information has been laid this day 

by for that you, within the 

district aforesaid, did unlawfully and maliciously 
16 


238 


“ERB n 


publish a certain defamatory libel of and concern- 
ing the said well knowing the same defam- 

atory libel to be false, contrary to the statute in 
such case made and provided. You are therefore 
hereby summoned to appear before the Court of 
Summary Jurisdiction sitting at the Southwark Po- 
lice Court on the twentieth day of October, at the 
hour of ten in the forenoon, to answer to the said 
information. Signed with an indistinct signature, 
one of the magistrates of the police-court of the 
metropolis. 

This, on a blue-coloured form, which a friendly 
policeman left one evening, when Erb was wrestling 
with his brief leading article, and unable to decide 
whether to give a touch of brightness 1o the col- 
umn by the two lines of poetry from William Mor- 
ris, and risk offending a few subscribers who looked 
on rhymes as frivolous, or to remain on the safer 
ground of prose. Erb, in his attacks on the Neck- 
inger Road firm, had begun to feel as a fencer does 
who makes ingenious passes at the air, and he was 
so much gratified now to find that he had at last 
struck something, that he gave the warrant-officer 
something with which to purchase a drink, and had 
a very friendly chat with him concerning points of 
law. Erb had to confess he had not hitherto under- 
stood — being a man whose mind was occupied with 
other matters — that one had to appear at a police- 
court in regard to a charge of libel : the warrant- 
officer increased Erb’s knowledge by informing him 
that not only was this the case where no damages 


“ERB M 


239 


were claimed, but that the publication had only to 
be proved and you were at once committed to the 
Central Criminal Court to take your trial. 

“ There/’ said the officer with relish, “ there the 
Grand Jury has the first go at you, see? ” 

“ They can throw out the Bill ? ” 

“ They can ,” admitted the other grudgingly, 
“ but bless my soul,” with a return to cheerfulness, 
“ they won’t in your case. Then, in what you may 
term due course, on comes your case. See? You 
can either defend yourself ” 

“ I shall.” 

“ You know the old saying, I s’pose?” 

“ Never mind the old saying,” replied Erb, 
“ Get on ! ” 

“ Then, of course, if you’re fool enough to 
conduct your own case, you’ll be fool enough 
to cross-examine the witnesses for the other 
side.” 

“ I shall,” said Erb. 

“ And a fine old mess you’ll make of it,” re- 
marked the warrant-officer, laughing uproariously. 
“ Lord ! I’d give an ounce of shag to be in court 
when it comes off.” 

“ I’ll see that it comes off.” 

“ I’ve seen some of the biggest larks when chaps 
have been trying to do this sort of thing on their 
own, that ever you can imagine. Sometimes when 
I’m a bit down-hearted over anything, or if the 
wife’s a bit aggravatin’, I just cast my mind back 
and ” 


240 


“ERB” 


The warrant-officer laughed again, and, taking 
off his helmet, mopped the inside of it with his 
handkerchief. 

“ Never, I suppose/’ said Erb, a little nettled 
by this ill-timed hilarity, “ seen a man in the wit- 
ness box turned thoroughly inside out?” 

“ Not by an amateur.” 

“ Never seen him pinned down to certain facts, 
never watched him being led on and on and on, 
until he finds that he hasn’t got a shred of a repu- 
tation, a remnant of a character, not a single white 
spot of innocence or ” 

“ I like your talk, old man,” interrupted the 
warrant-officer, fixing on his helmet, “ and I wish 
I could stay to hear more of it. But take care you 
don’t wear your face out. So long ! ” 

The police of London are not infallible, but the 
first prophecies of the warrant-officer seemed likely 
to prove correct. Erb, determined not to fetter him- 
self by legal knowledge, nevertheless found infor- 
mation thrust upon him, and this confirmed the 
statement that the police-court proceedings would 
be of a simple and formal nature. He regretted 
the delay, for he was eager to get to close quarters 
with the firm, and he spent his days in collecting 
evidence, he walked about at night, always taking 
in Camberwell in the tour that he might look up 
at her window, rehearsing the questions that he 
would put to the firm, imagining contests of words 
with counsel on the other side, contests from which 
he always emerged victorious. Spanswick had at 


“ERB” 


241 


last given up all pretence of being a railway car- 
man, and had resigned his membership (this to 
the relief of Payne and of Erb) ; it made Erb stop 
and think for a few minutes, when one afternoon, 
looking out of his office window he saw Spanswick 
driving a single-horse van belonging to the Neck- 
inger Road firm. 

Nothing could be more gratifying than the no- 
tice accorded by the evening papers to the hearing 
at the police-court. It happened on a day when 
little else of importance occurred, so that two jour- 
nals had the item on their placards — 

“ ALLEGED NEWSPAPER LIBEL,” 

and one of them gave an astonishing portrait of 
Erb, “ Sketched by our Artist in Court,” declared 
the legend underneath, as though this were any 
excuse. Railway carmen from all quarters some- 
how managed to include Southwark Police Court in 
their rounds at the precise hour of the hearing of 
the case, and when Payne and another householder 
gave their names in for the purpose of bail they 
cheered, and the magistrate threatening to have 
them expelled, they cheered again and filed out at 
the door. 

“ Let’s have a bloomin’ meeting,” cried one. 

The suggestion clipped their fancy. Erb, com- 
ing out quietly, found himself seized by two of the 
strongest men, carried triumphantly to an empty 
South Western van standing in Marshalsea Road, 
and hoisted up to the seat of this, whence, to the 


242 


“ERE" 


obvious surprise of the two roan horses, he made a 
speech. 

“ We’ll stick to you, Erb,” cried some of the 
crowd. 

“ Through thick and thin,” cried the rest. 

" Three cheers for Erb. Hip ! hip ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


The weeks had hurried rapidly, more rapidly 
than usual, for they were pressed with business. 
The trial at the Central Criminal Court was over, 
after a hearing that struck Erb as being surpris- 
ingly brief, in view of the importance of the case ; 
immediately on the conclusion of the evidence, and 
the speeches of counsel, the Recorder, from his scar- 
let-cushioned seat, where he had a robed Alderman 
and a knee-breeched Under Sheriff for company, 
had fined him, courteously and pleasantly, the sum 
of fifty pounds, or in default two months’ imprison- 
ment. The shortness of the trial rendered an organ- 
ised demonstration of little value in that the men 
arrived outside the Old Bailey some three hours 
after the case had been disposed of. Now there is 
nothing more galling to the Londoner than to be 
disappointed in his anticipations of a show, and it 
had required all Erb’s tact and more than his usual 
amiability to appease them. 

Erb had expressed a desire to go to prison to 
purge the offence (a short purgatory in jail was no 
bad prelude to political life), but the men would 
not hear of this : they could not manage without him, 
he was indispensable, they must have someone to 
look after the society, there was none to take his 

243 


244 


“ERB M 


place, and he had given up this idea with less of 
reluctance because a disquieting tone had come into 
the letters of Rosalind from Worthing. But, deter- 
mined to do something heroic, he insisted that his 
household goods in Page’s Walk should be sold up, 
and a scene thus contrived that should attract public 
attention. Wherefore there was an auction room in 
New Kent Road, to which all the furniture (with the 
single exception of the bedding) had been removed 
“ For Convenience of Sale,” and here were as many 
of the railway carmen of London as could spare 
themselves conveniently from their duties, and here 
also were a few alert-eyed youths with note books 
and sharpened pencils eager to record some incident 
so amusing that not even a sub-editor’s pencil should 
venture to delete. A fusty smell of cocoanut wrap- 
pings in the long room, bran new furniture gave 
an odour of polish, retained and preserved because 
there was no ventilation except that afforded by the 
entrance from the street ; a good-tempered auction- 
eer at the end of the room, high up and leaning on 
a rostrum, with a flaring, whistling, naked gas jet 
that compelled attention, because every now and 
then it exhibited a humorous desire to singe the top 
of the auctioneer’s shining silk hat. Erb stood by 
the wall, rather proud of being in the position of a 
martyr, his men formed a body-guard around him. 
Close up by the auctioneer stood half a dozen de- 
crepit old men, the habitues of the place, ready to 
snatch up a bargain, to become the intermediaries 
between buyers and auctioneer, to knock out a sale, 


“ERB n 


245 


or, in short, to do anything and everything except 
serious labour. 

“We have here,” said the auctioneer, leaning 
over his high desk and pointing with his hammer, 
“ a very fine lot — show No. 13, George, and don’t 
be all day about it — a very fine lot, consisting of a 
pianoforte. Music hath charms, gentlemen, as you 
know, to soothe the savage breast, and it’s always a 
good investment from that point of view alone. 
George, jest run over the keys to show these gentle- 
men what a first-class musician you are.” The at- 
tendant, first rubbing the palm of his hand on his 
green baize apron, stroked the keys from first note 
to last. “ There ! ” cried the auctioneer, “ there’s 
execution for you ! Many a man’s been ’anged for 
less. Now then, what shall we say for this magnifi- 
cent instrument ? Don’t all speak at once. Did you 
say twenty pounds, mister ? ” This to one of the 
regulars at the side. 

“ Not being a blank fool,” replied the musty old 
gentleman, “ I did not say twen’y pounds.” 

“ Well ! won’t anyone say twenty pounds jest for 
a start? Come now. You’ve all learnt some lan- 
guage or other.” 

“ Four and six,” said one of the carmen chaff- 
ingly. 

“ No, no ! ” said the auctioneer rather coldly. “ I 
enjoy a joke as well as anyone, but ’pon my 
word ” 

“ Five bob ! ” 

“ I’m very good tempered,” went on the auction- 


246 


“ERB” 


eer, getting red in the face, “ and I can stand as 
much as most men. But ” 

“ Five and six ! ” 

“ Well/’ with resignation, “ have your own way 
about it. Five and six is offered ; five and six in two 
places ; six shillings. I thank you, sir ! Who’ll say 
’alf a sov’, eh? Seven shillings! Very well then. 
But do let’s go on a shilling at a time ; I can’t take 
sixpenny advances. You know the old story of the 
girl ” 

Erb, looking round with a determined smile on 
his features, saw Spanswick. entering from the pave- 
ment; with him a gentleman whose eyes were wa- 
tery and whose gait was uncertain. Spanswick gave 
a casual nod to the clump of men, and beckoned to 
Erb in such an authoritative way that Erb crossed 
the room when the pianoforte — poor Louisa’s 
pianoforte, that she would allow no one to play — 
had been knocked down for twenty-five shillings. 
The auctioneer ordered his man to show the horse- 
hair sofa and chairs. 

“ My friend Doubleday,” said Spanswick, intro- 
ducing his companion. Mr. Doubleday removed 
his silk hat with care, for the brims seemed rather 
weak, and in a husky voice declared himself hon- 
oured. “ One of the cleverest men in South Lon- 
don,” whispered Spanswick to Erb, “ only he won’t 
recognise the fact. Educated, too ! ” 

“ This is a noble action of yours, sir,” said Mr. 
Doubleday, trying to clear his voice. “ Reflects 
the highest credit on what I may venture to term 


“ERB” 


247 


the manhood of South London.” Spanswick looked 
at Erb proudly, as though to say, “ He can talk, 
can’t he ? ” “ The newspapers will ring with your 
praises, sir. Capital will sneak away, abashed and 
ashamed in the presence of such a brilliant example 
of self-sacrifice and whole-hearted devotion. I sup- 
pose you haven’t got such a thing as a pipe full of 
tobacco about you? I’ve come out without my 
pouch.” 

“ Always comes out without his pouch,” re- 
marked Spanswick admiringly. 

“ No, no ! ” said Mr. Doubleday, refusing with 
something of haughtiness Erb’s further offer. “ I 
have a match, thank you. I have no desire to be 
indebted for anything,” he drew hard at his pipe, 
“ for anything which I myself possess.” 

“ Independent old beggar, ain’t he ? ” whispered 
Spanswick. 

“ My friend here gives me to understand — and 
I have no doubt that his information is per-fectly 
correct — that you have adopted this attitude because 
a female relative — a sister, if I mistake not ” 

“ A sister,” admitted Erb. 

“ Has suffered grievously. Assuming that to 
be the case, I can only say that I am proud to grasp 
your hand, sir, and that I desire your acquaint- 
ance.” 

“ It ain’t many that he’d say that to,” whispered 
Spanswick. 

“ I want all the friends I’ve got just now,” said 
Erb. 


24S 


“ERB” 


“ The lines of Longfellow,” said Mr. Double- 
day condescendingly, “ spring readily to one’s 
mind.” The hammer of the auctioneer went down 
with a startling crack; something that he said 
made the group of men laugh, and Erb was called 
by them to hear it. “We can make our lives sub- 
lime, and um-tee, umpty, umpty, umpty — footsteps 
on the sands of time,” quoted Mr. Doubleday. 

“ I must hop off,” said Spanswick. “ Hasn’t he 
got a marvellous memory ? ” 

“ You’ll take your friend with you? ” said Erb. 

“ No,” said Spanswick, rather awkwardly, “ I’ll 
leave him. Fancy he’s got something to say to 
you.” 

When the sale was over, it occurred to Erb that 
he had not eaten that day, and as the men had to 
hurry off to their duties, he would have been left 
alone but for Mr. Doubleday’s presence. Erb was 
glad to leave the gas-scented auction rooms, and 
would have been content with no other company 
but his own ; he had been acting in a hot, tempes- 
tuous way of late, and he was anxious, now that this 
business was over, to review it all calmly. Anxious, 
also, think of Louisa, and — But Mr. Doubleday 
stuck to him, and when Erb entered the Enterprise 
Dining Rooms, in New Kent Road, Doubleday fol- 
lowed him to the pew, and sat down opposite. Erb 
gave his order to the girl, who rested the palms of 
her red hands on the table ; when she turned to the 
other, Doubleday said, assuming the manner of a 
complaisant guest, that he would have the same. 


“ERB” 


249 


" Fate,” he said, hanging the deplorable silk hat 
on a wooden peg, “ Fate has thrown us together, sir, 
in a most remarkable way.” 

“ Thought it was Spanswick,” said Erb. 

“ Most inscrutable, the workings of Providence. 
Stagger even me at times.” 

“ You don’t mean that? ” said Erb. 

“ Positive truth ! ” declared Mr. Doubleday. 
“ Now this meeting with you, for instance. If it 
had been planned it couldn’t have happened more 
fortunately. Because I have information to give you 
of the very highest possible value. It means, my 
dear sir, an absolute epoch-making event in your 
life, and — Ah ! roast beef and Yorkshire pudding! 
Reminds me of my young days. I recollect when 
I was a bit of a boy ” 

Mr. Doubleday, with heavy jest and leaden- 
footed reminiscence, took the duty of conversation 
upon himself, evidently feeling that he was a bright, 
diverting companion, one who just for his excep- 
tional powers as a raconteur well deserved to be 
asked out to dine. His stories were so long, and the 
telling of them so complicated, that Erb was able 
to allow his mind to concentrate itself on his own 
affairs. He had taken a definite, a desperate step ; 
the reaction was setting in, and he began to wonder 
whether he had been precisely right. Something to 
feel that whatever he did, right or wrong, he had 
the solid, obstinate, unreasoning support of the men ; 
one could, of course, count upon this; the greater 
the misfortune he encountered, the more faithful and 


250 


“ERB” 


obedient would they become. There could be no 
doubt about that. Besides, they had no one else to 
guide them. He was, as they had admitted, the one, 
the necessary man. Any signs of rebellion in the 
past he had always been able to quell with very little 
trouble; as a last resource, there was always the 
threat of resignation. So that was satisfactory 
enough. Less grateful to remember that th& re- 
venge he had tried to take on the Neckinger Road 
firm had done his sister’s health no good whatever. 
He would run down to Worthing soon to see her 
and to cheer her. 

“ Joking apart,” said Mr. Doubleday, snap- 
ping his finger and thumb to secure the at- 
tention of the waitress, “ let’s come to business. 
(Cabinet pudding, my dear ! I daresay my 
genial host will take the same.) You must under- 
stand, please, that what I am about to submit to you 
is, as we say in the law, entirely without preju- 
dice.” 

“ Are you a lawyer? ” 

“ I used to be in a secondhand bookseller’s. 
Now, I suppose I’m right in assuming that you 
could, if necessary, place your hands on a certain 
sum of money ? ” 

“ I could.” 

“ About how much shall we say?” asked Mr. 
Doubleday engagingly. 

Erb counted the money in his pocket. 

“ Twelve shillings and ninepence.” 

“ I appreciate the humour of that remark,” said 


“ERB” 


251 


Mr. Doubleday in his husky voice, “ but I want to 
talk business. I’m a plain, straightforward man, 
and what I want to know is simply this. Is there 
a five-pound note flying about ? ” 

“ If there was,” said Erb, “ I should catch it.” 

“ There’s the benefit money,” said the other, 
looking at himself curiously in the hollow of a 
spoon, “ the benefit money to borrow from, and — 
Yes, yes ! I know what you are going to say and 
I quite agree with you. I think you’re most de- 
cidedly in the right. Far be it from me to suggest 
for a single moment ” 

“ I’m getting tired of you,” interrupted Erb sud- 
denly. “ I wish you’d take your hook and go away* 
Your face worries me, and your talk makes my 
head ache.” 

“ Then it’s time I came to close quarters. Listen 
to me ! ” Mr. Doubleday leaned his elbows on the 
table, and, bending forward, shielded his mouth 
with his hand that words might not go astray. 
“ This is the situation. A man, a young man, takes 
up a certain high-minded attitude in regard to a cer- 
tain firm ; gets hauled up for libel ; gets fined. His 
society comes to his rescue. Newspapers have para- 
graphs applauding him. So far, so good! Fine 
thing to show up, as far as he can, dangerous trades. 
But he forgets or he pretends to forget, doesn’t mat- 
ter which — that not so long ago he, this same young 
man, went all over the country, making speeches in 
favour of a syndicate that called itself something or 
other ” 


252 


“ERB” 


“ I don’t ask your permission before I open my 
mouth,” cried Erb heatedly. 

“ True, my lad, true! You can go further than 
that. You can say that you didn’t do so without 
being adequately bribed to do it.” 

“ Bribed ! ” Erb rose at the table and clenched 
his fist. 

“ Keep cool ! ” said Mr. Doubleday, making a 
military tent of his two hands. “ There’s no extra 
charge for sitting down.” 

“ Let me know what you mean by saying that 
I’ve been bribed.” 

“ I should have thought that you would have 
known the meaning of the term by this time. 
B-r-i-b-e is a word meaning the sum accepted for 
doing work that you had no business to do. We 
can easily verify it.” He snapped his fingers. “ Got 
a dictionary, my dear ? ” 

“ To eat? ” asked the waitress. 

“ A dictionary,” he repeated with impatience. 

“ We’ve got an old London directory.” 

“ Never mind about the exact definition of the 
word,” said Erb steadily. “ Tell me at once what 
you mean by your accusation.” 

“ Have you ever in all your life seen a cheque 
for twenty pounds ? ” 

“ Yes!” 

“ Made payable to yourself? ” 

“ Yes ! ” 

“ And signed by ” 

“ Yes, yes, go on.” 


“ERB” 


2 53 


“ Nothing more to say,” remarked Mr. Double- 
day. “ There’s an end of the matter. Only it’s 
rather a pretty circumstance altogether, don’t you 
think? This self-sacrificing chap who has allowed 
himself to be sold up publicly as a protest against 
harmful trades, is the same man who earlier in the 
year was speaking throughout the length and 
breadth of the land in support of trade infinitely 
more harmful than the one carried on in Neckinger 
Road. And” here Mr. Doubleday took down his 
elderly silk hat and made elaborate pretence of 
smoothing the nap, “getting uncommonly well paid 
for it, too. Pretty situation, isn’t it ? ” 

“ There’s a very good answer to the charge you 
bring against me,” said Erb, trying to keep his 
temper, “ but there’s no earthly reason why I should 
give it. I’m not responsible to you ; I am responsible 
to my society.” 

“ Ah,” cried Mr. Doubleday, putting his hat on 
jauntily, “ glad you recognise that.” 

“ I do recognise it.” 

“ And having recognised it, you see that it would 
be very much to your interest that the unfortunate 
transaction should be kept dark.” 

“ Not at all ! ” 

“ In which case,” here he stood up ready to go, 
and slapped his foot with his bamboo cane, “ in 
which case you’d better come, my lad, to this place ” 
— he placed a worn and travelled card with two ad- 
dresses ruled out and a third written in, “ before six 
o’clock to-night. Before six o’clock, mind. A min- 
17 


254 


“E R B” 


ute past will be too late. And — er — bring that five- 
pound note along with you.” 

He walked jauntily up the aisle of the dining 
rooms to the street door; when the waitress flew 
after him, he whispered a few words and pointed 
back at Erb with his cane. 

“ Is that right ? ” demanded the waitress breath- 
lessly of Erb, “ is that right that you pay ? ” 

“ Looks like it ! ” replied Erb moodily. 

The threat did good in one way in that it aroused 
all his fighting instincts and that it diverted his mind 
from Worthing. Going down Walworth Road to 
look at Rosalind’s house, he rehearsed the expected 
scene, striking the palm of one hand with the fist 
the other, and scoring with great neatness over 
Spanswick and other opponents. Women at the 
stalls stopped in their loud declaration of the ad- 
mirable character of their goods, to watch the ex- 
cited young man as he went by, and remarked to 
each other that he was evidently in love ; an excuse 
that in their eyes justified any and every sign of 
eccentric behaviour. On the way back (after walk- 
ing up and down near the garden of monumental 
statuary and glancing shyly each time at her win- 
dow), he met the Professor, and for the sheer pleas- 
ure of talking of her engaged him in conversation. 
The Professor deplored the fact that after you had 
given the best years of your life to the education of 
an only child, she should go off to the seaside for a 
holiday without so much as thinking for a moment 
of taking you with her, and asked Erb whether he 


“ERB” 


255 


# 


had half a crown about him in exchange for two 
separate shillings and a sixpence. On Erb produc- 
ing this coin the Professor found, with many ex- 
pressions of deep regret, that he had left the smaller 
pieces in a waistcoat at home. 

“ But I shan’t forget, my dear chap,” said the 
Professor, raising his hand for a stage clasp. “ I am 
one of those who never permit a kindness to escape 
from their memory. But I hate to be badgered. 
That ungrateful young scamp Railton, for instance.” 
“ Ah ! ” 

“ What have I not done, or rather what have I 
not promised to do, for him.” 

“ Daresay ! But ” 

“ Engaged at one time to my accomplished 
daughter.” 

“ But what about him ? ” 

“ I am not romancing,” said the other impress- 
ively. “ I am simply giving you the downright, 
honest, blunt, straightforward truth when I tell you 
that he wrote this morning asking me for two 
pounds on the plea that he had become married at 
the beginning of the week to a publican’s daughter 
at Oldham.” 

“ Did you send it ? ” asked Erb, with great cheer- 
fulness. 

“ I wrote and I told him that if, as he said, he 
had in the past lent me sums amounting in the 
aggregate to this total, why I could only say that 
the fact had escaped my memory. I would, how- 
ever, take an opportunity of looking through my 


256 


“ERB” 


memoranda in order to see whether I had made any 
record of such transactions. Could I say anything 
fairer ? ” 

“ And he’s actually married? ” 

“ There is a piece of what is termed wedding 
cake at home, awaiting my daughter’s return.” 

“ Will it — will it upset her do you think ? ” asked 
Erb nervously. 

“ I shall warn her not to eat it,” said the Pro- 
fessor. 

Erb did an extraordinary thing. Delighted by 
the news which the Professor had brought he set 
out upon a walk down through Camberwell into 
Surrey, a walk that he determined should last until 
he was tired out, a walk that had some vague advan- 
tage of going in the direction of Worthing. He 
was not used to heroic physical exercise, but on 
this unique occasion there seemed nothing else to 
do that would have been appropriate, and he min- 
gled with the evening tide of people receding from 
London, beating it easily, and finally arriving be- 
yond Dulwich, and well out into the country, where 
the rare gas lamps were being lighted and a mist 
came like a decorous veil and protected the face 
of the roadway modestly. Easier to think here than 
in the hurry and turmoil and clatter of town. After 
all, what did public life matter, what did the cause 
of labour or anything else matter so long as one 
was personally happy? That had ever been the 
aim of wise men ; in future it should be his. There 
could always come the superadded amusement of 


“ERB” 


257 


playing with lesser minds, directing them and mak- 
ing them perform, exercising control in the manner 
of the unseen director of a Punch and Judy show. 
Erb argued this in a quiet road, with gesture and ex- 
citement; a sparrow hopped along for some dis- 
tance with him in a companionable way, twittering 
approval, and hinting that if there should be such a 
thing in the corner of a pocket as a few bread 
crumbs 

It was late when Erb returned by train from 
Croydon to South Bermondsey station, and in the 
nearly empty rooms of Page’s Walk he found Payne 
awaiting him. Payne, with something more than 
his usual gravity of countenance, seated on the one 
remaining chair and smoking an empty pipe in a 
desolate, absent-minded way. ^ 

“ Well,” said Payne lugubriously, " you’ve done 
for yourself now.” 

“ That so,” remarked Erb. “ What’s the lat- 
est?” 

“ One of the worst crisisises,” said Payne sol- 
emnly, and taking some gloomy enjoyment in mak- 
ing the word as long and as important as possible, 
“ that ever you encountered in all your puff.” 

“ I’m ready for it,” said Erb. 

“ They’ve sacked you,” said Payne. 

“ Is that all?” 

“ They’ve shown you the door. They’ve helped 
you downstairs with their foot. They’ve kicked you 
out, old man.” 

“ This a joke ? ” asked Erb. 


“ERB n 


258 


“ Never made a joke in me life,” declared Payne, 
“ and well you know it.” 

Erb went over to the window and rested on the 
window sill. 

“ Spanswick ? ” he asked briefly. 

“ Him,” answered Payne, “ and no other.” 

“ And they settled it all without hearing my ac- 
count of the case ? ” 

“ Old chum ! there didn’t seem to be no room 
for any other account. He’d got chapter and verse 
for everything he said. All about a twenty pound 
cheque, all about ” 

“ And it never occurred to this — this flock of 
sheep,” shouted Erb excitedly, “ that I destroyed 
that cheque and never cashed it ? ” 

“ I don’t think they understand much about 
cheques,” said Payne. “ The fact that you took it 
was what impressed them.” 

Neither spoke for a few minutes. 

“ Who’s going to take my place ? ” 

“ Friend of Spanswick’s.” 

“ Name Doubleday ? ” 

“ Name of Doubleday,” said Payne affirmative- 
ly. “ Clever sort of sweat, so far as I could judge. 
What are you going to do about it, old man ? Go- 
ing to organise, I trust. Open-air meeting, say.” 

“ Did any of the others stick up for my side ? ” 

“ Only me ! ” 

A pause again. 

“ Well, you’re going to do something?” 

“ You’ve got another guess,” said Erb. 


CHAPTER XV 

If Erb’s experience of life had been greater, if 
his knowledge of the trend of events had been more 
extensive, he would have been helped by the assur- 
ance that in this world, mist and sunshine alternate, 
and that rarely a fog descends on the life of an ener- 
getic man and remains there always. But had Erb 
known this, there would still have remained the un- 
deniable fact that, for the time at any rate, the at- 
mosphere was murky. He showed a certain 
amount of temper. He sent in his keys addressed 
to the acting secretary, and, knowing that the ac- 
counts were all in order, declined the request that 
he should attend to explain money matters to his 
successor; he decided to leave London (having 
indeed very little there to leave) and to go down 
to Worthing, giving no one but Payne his ad- 
dress. 

“ Looks as though you had turned sulky,” re- 
monstrated Payne. 

“ I have ! ” said Erb. 

The new number of “ The Carman,” which he 
himself had made up, contained a brief paragraph, 
to make room for which a quotation from Ruskin 
had been deleted. 


259 


260 


“ERB” 


“ We beg to state that Herbert Barnes has no 
longer any connection with the Society, and that the 
position of Secretary will be filled up at the next 
meeting of the committee. At present everything 
points to Friend Doubleday, who is in a position to 
devote the whole of his time to the work, and can be 
relied on not to have dealings with the representa- 
tives of capital.” 

More stings came on the way up the Boro’ to 
London Bridge station. Four railway carmen he 
met, driving their vans, instead of the “ Hello ! ” and 
the mystic twist of the whip, there was first a glance 
of cautious recognition, then a steady look ahead, 
with an air of absorbed interest, as though realis- 
ing for the first time the horse’s presence. At the 
station itself, men of his old Society, on seeing him, 
hurried round to the tails of their vans, and com- 
menced sorting parcels there with amazing industry. 
All this sent Erb into the deeper depths, and it was 
not until he reached Worthing, and found on the 
platform Rosalind and Aunt Emma and his sister, 
Louisa, Louisa’s white face becoming pink with 
excitement, that he forgot his worries. 

“ Well,” said Aunt Emma, “ what’s the best 
news ? ” 

“ There isn’t any best news,” replied Erb. 

They went, arm in arm, down the long road to 
the sea front, and in a shelter there, Erb sat be- 
tween them, and for the first time since the down- 
fall found the luxury of detailed description and 


“ERB” 


26 i 


frank avowal. When the account came of the worst 
Rosalind touched his sleeve sympathetically. 

“ And there you are ! ” said Erb when he had 
finished. He found himself now inclined to look 
on the disasters as though they had occurred to 
someone else with whom he had nothing in com- 
mon. “ And here I am, in about as awkward a 
situation as I’ve ever been in in all my life.” 

“ Complimentary to us,” said Rosalind brightly. 

He took her hand and patted it. 

“ You know what I mean,” he whispered. 

“ They’d no right to sell up the ’ome,” said 
Louisa fiercely. 

“ Yes they had,” said Erb. “ By the law.” 

“ But that Spanswick’s the one that should have 
suffered.” 

“ An oven in a oast house,” suggested Aunt 
Emma, “ would finish him off. That’s how he’ll be 
treated in the next world, anyway.” 

“ I ought to have verified the information he 
gave me about the first affair.” 

“ And in the second affair you were perfectly 
right.” 

“ That don’t make any difference to the law of 
libel. Besides, I was in a temper when I wrote it. 
I let my feelings get the better of me.” 

“ What do you propose ” 

“ Haven’t a single idea,” declared Erb exult- 
antly. “ Go back on me hands and knees and get a 
berth as carman again, I s’pose.” 

“ That you never shall,” said the two young 


262 


“ERB ” 


women emphatically. “ You have some long walks 
whilst you’re down here,” counselled Rosalind, 
“ and think it over by yourself.” 

“ If a bit of money’s wanted — ” began Aunt 
Emma. 

“ All this time,” he said, turning to Louisa and 
pinching her white cheek, “ all this time I haven’t 
inquired how you are pulling along.” 

“ I’m as right as rain, Erb.” 

“ Ah ! ” he remarked doubtfully, “ so you’ve al- 
ways said. Heard anything of Alice ? ” 

“ Not a word from the overgrown minx,” said 
Louisa with wrath. “ If she was here I’d speak my 
mind to her, and pretty quick about it, too. Oh, 
yes, I know,” Louisa went on, not to be deterred by 
an interruption from the rare luxury of an access 
of temper, “ she may have a lot to think of ; she 
takes jolly good care not to think of us.” 

“ Has anyone written to tell her? ” asked Rosa- 
lind quietly. 

“ Why should we ? ” demanded Erb’s young sis- 
ter with illogical heat. “ It’s her business to find 
out! But, of course, she wouldn’t care if we was 
both in the workhouse.” 

“ I wouldn’t go so far as that.” 

“ I shouldn’t let you,” said Aunt Emma. 

“ Meanwhile,” interrupted Rosalind, “ we’re not 
giving your brother anything to eat. Let me run 
off to our rooms and get something ready.” 

The opportunity came here for Louisa to tell 
her brother how good Rosalind had been, what a 


* 


“ERB” 


263 


flrst-class nurse she had proved herself, how bright 
and attentive. “ I should have kicked the bucket, I 
think,” said Louisa looking out across the sea rather 
thoughtfully, “ if it hadn’t been for her. And such 
a manager! Isn’t she, Aunt Emma?” Erb listen- 
ing, began to feel that the world was not such a bad 
world after all. He talked hopefully, but vaguely, 
of either going to Canada, where he believed a man 
with a handful of capital was welcomed, and estates 
presented to him by a hospitable Government, or to 
New South Wales, where, so far as he could ascer- 
tain, labour leaders were in demand, and treated with 
proper amount of trustfulness. On Aunt Emma 
asking whether these places were not in point of fact 
a long way off, Erb was forced to admit that they 
were a pretty tidy step, and that, everything else 
being equal, he would prefer to stay in the London 
where he had been born — the London that he knew, 
the London that he liked. 

“ I haven’t played the game well,” admitted Erb 
candidly. “ I’ve tried to be fair and straightforward 
with both sides, and I’ve managed to fall down in 
between them. And I’ve hurt myself ! ” 

They had nearly finished their steak at dinner, 
and Louisa, breaking from new and fiercer condem- 
nation of Alice, was about to inquire of Rosalind 
whether there was anything for after, when a minia- 
ture telegraph boy passed the window in Portland 
Street, and gave a double knock, altogether out of 
proportion to his size, at the front door. The land- 
lady’s daughter brought in a telegram, and 


264 


“ERB” 


“ Please,” said the landlady’s daughter (inspecting 
Erb with curiosity, in order to give a report to her 
mother), “ Please is there any answer? ” 

“Just heard of trouble. Lady Frances wishes 
to see you this evening. Most important. — Alice.” 

“ Take no notice of it,” said Louisa, not yet re- 
stored to coolness. “ Ignore it ! ” 

Rosalind offered no counsel. Aunt Emma 
watched her narrowly. Erb considered for a mo- 
ment, looking from one to another. 

“ Thought you were going to stay with us a few 
days ? ” remarked his sister. 

“ I ought to go back if it’s really important,” he 
said. “ And Lady Frances is a young lady who 
doesn’t like being disappointed.” 

“ Please yourself,” said Aunt Emma shortly. 
“ But take care, that’s all ! ” 

He found news, on his return after this very 
brief visit, in a letter at the emptied rooms in Page’s 
Walk that at once encouraged him and gave him 
perturbation. The white-haired Labour Member 
wrote in cautious terms that a certain bye-election in 
a London constituency was imminent. It had been 
decided to run a Labour candidate ; the other two 
sides were pretty evenly matched, and if the game 
were played well, and played out, there was good 
chance of the Labour man making a fair show; 
there was another chance, less probable, but possi- 
ble, that the Liberal candidate, if he found he had 


“ E R B ” 


265 


no prospect of winning, might retire before the elec- 
tion. The point was (wrote the Labour M.P.), 
would Erb consent to stand if he were selected? 
All the expenses would be paid, and all the help that 
the party could give would be willingly afforded. 
It would be better to put up a man like Erb, who 
had never before submitted to the suffrages of a 
constituency, than a man who had elsewhere under- 
gone the experience of rejection. A reply to the 
House of Commons would oblige, and, meanwhile, 
this communication was to be regarded as strictly 
private. 

“ He hasn’t heard,” said Erb thoughtfully, “ of 
my come down.” 

There were many courses, Erb felt, to pursue 
which were not straightforward, but only one that 
was honest. He went into a stationer’s in Willow 
Walk, and, borrowing pen and ink, and purchasing 
paper and envelope, wrote a frank letter, giving all 
the necessary details of recent events, and just 
caught the five-thirty post as the pillar box was be- 
ing deprived of its contents. Then he made his way 
on foot — a desperate spirit of economy possessing 
him — to Eaton Square. 

“ Ages since I saw you,” said Mr. Danks the 
footman, receiving him on the area steps with some- 
thing like enthusiasm, “ but I’ve heard of you over 
and over again.” 

“ How are you getting on with your aitches?” 
asked Erb. 

“ Very complimentary remarks, too,” said Mr. 


266 


“ERB” 


Danks, ignoring the inquiry. “ My cousin Rosie 
seems to think of nobody else, so far as I can judge. 
I’d no idea you were a favourite with the fair sex ! ” 

“ Ah ! ” remarked Erb. “ It’s brain that tells in 
the long run.” 

“ If I thought there was anything in that re- 
mark,” said the footman, interested, “ I’d go in for 
literature or something of the kind myself. I’m 
expecting to be thrown over by a young lady in 
Lowndes Square by every post, and — but I’m keep- 
ing you waiting.” 

“ I noticed that,” said Erb. 

“ Jackson,” said cook, now stouter and appar- 
ently shorter than ever, “ would be down directly.” 
Would Erb let her cut for him a sandwich or a 
snack of — well, Erb could please himself, cook’s own 
motto in the matter of feeding was, “ Little and 
often,” but it had never been her way to force her 
opinions on other people, in which particular her 
motto was “ Interfere with nobody, and nobody will 
interfere with you.” Cook had many other apho- 
risms to impart, and seemed a little hurt when Alice 
came into the kitchen and claimed her brother with 
a kiss that had about it unexpected affection. 

“ I’ve been worrying about you day and night,” 
declared Alice. “ I never thought anything would 
upset me so much.” 

“ Wonder you don’t ask after Jessie,” inter- 
rupted cook. 

“ Jessie who? ” demanded Erb. 

“ Just Jessie! Thought you was rather struck 


“ERB” 267 

on her. She's with a family travelling abroad now. 
Tall girl with eyes." 

“ I'd forgotten all about her." 

“ Ah ! " sighed the cook. “ That's a man all 
over. It’s the old saying over again ” 

“ And I told Lady Frances," continued Alice, 
leaving cook to mutter to a large joint of beef turn- 
ing before a desperately fierce fire, “ and you're to 
see her, Erb, directly after dinner." 

“ What’s in the wind ? " 

“ That's more than I can tell you. But I'm very 
glad you've cut your connection with all those com- 
mon working men." 

“ They’ve cut their connection with me," said 
Erb. 

“ Comes to the same thing," said his sister, 
equably. 

“ Last time you was here, Mr. Barnes," said 
cook, over her shoulder from the fire, “ you came 
as a friend of the family. Funny world isn’t it? 
Upstairs one day, downstairs the next." 

“ You must be short of money, Erb," whispered 
his sister, in an undertone. “ I’ve got quite a tidy 
bit put away in the savings bank. If ten or twenty 
pounds " 

“ Upon my word," cried Erb, “ it’s worth while 
having a touch of misfortune now and again, if it’s 
only just to find how much kindness there is about. 
But I shall find my feet somehow, Alice. Don’t 
you worry about me." 

“ Can’t help doing so.” 


268 


“ERB” 


“ You might do what you can for Louisa, 
though. If it hadn’t been for — for a friend of mine, 
I don’t know where she’d have been.” 

“ We’ve never quite got on together in the past,” 
said Alice regretfully. “ The difference in our 
heights seem to have led to other differences. But 
I’ll see that it all dries straight. She’ll pull through, 
of course.” 

“ I think she’ll just pull through,” said Erb, 
thoughtfully, “ and that’s about all. Doctor says 
that if there was unlimited money about she’d be 
herself in a few months. But there you are, you 
see ! Just when it’s wanted particularly, it goes and 
hides.” 

Mr. Danks knocked and came in with a reveren- 
tial air that differed from the one with which he had 
greeted Erb in the area. Lady Frances’ compli- 
ments, and she would be pleased to see Mr. Barnes 
in the drawing-room now. 

“ Let me put your tie straight,” said Alice. 

Lady Frances, looking taller and more charming 
than ever in her dinner dress, was delighted to see 
Mr. Barnes again. Quite a long time since they had 
met. She herself had been very busy — would not 
Mr. Barnes sit down ? — very busy, and that must be 
taken as her excuse, rather worried, too. There was 
trouble out in North Africa, and when one had 
friends there — But the point was this : Lady 
Frances had heard all about the disastrous events 
in the Barnes household. In regard to Louisa, 
she must go to the Riviera with Lady Frances 


“ER B ” 


269 


this winter. No, no! It was entirely a selfish 
proposition, and Louisa would be a most amusing 
companion; Lady Frances never tired of Cockney 
humour. 

“ In return for which,” said Erb, fervently, “ I’ll 
do any blessed thing you like to ask me.” 

“ So far, good ! ” said Lady Frances, with a ges- 
ture of applause with her fan. “ Now to get on a 
little further. Her uncle — Mr. Barnes remembered 
her uncle ? ” 

“ I remember him well ! ” 

“ Now, this was a great secret, and must not be 
mentioned to a soul. Her uncle was going to stand 
for the coming bye-election at — Ah ! Mr. Barnes 
had heard of the probable vacancy. Strange how 
information flew about — and in this constituency ” 
(here Lady Frances tried to wrinkle her smooth 
young forehead, and to look extremely wise), “ there 
was, it appeared, a large working class element. 
Mr. Barnes had been useful in a somewhat similar 
way before. Why should not he again be of assist- 
ance? The money that he would thus earn would 
enable him to do almost anything. Go abroad to 
one of the Colonies, or stay here and marry and 
settle down, or ” 

“ There’s just this about it that I ought to tell 
you,” said Erb. “ I’ve been asked to have a dash at 
the same event as an Independent Labour Candi- 
date.” 

That, Lady Frances admitted with another effort 
to look aged, that certainly did complicate matters. 

18 


270 


“ERB” 


Was there probability of Mr. Barnes accepting the 
offer? 

“ Not the least probability in the world.” 

Capital, capital! The young diplomatist again 
signified approval with her fan and leaned forward 
from her chair in a most attractive way. All that 
now remained to do was for Mr. Barnes to say 
“ yes,” and the whole matter would be arranged 
satisfactorily. 

“ Upon my word,” declared Erb, after a few 
moments’ thought, “ to say ‘ yes ’ would be far and 
away the easiest thing to do. I owe precious 
little to my men after the way they’ve treated me, 
and it would just let them see ” 

Mr. Barnes would excuse Lady Frances for in- 
terrupting, but a really most supremely brilliant 
idea had just occurred to her, and it was indispen- 
sable that she should communicate it without an 
instant’s delay. (The young woman panted with 
surprise and enthusiasm, and Erb watched her rev- 
erently.) Why should not Mr. Barnes — this was 
absolutely the greatest notion that had ever oc- 
curred to anybody since the world began — why 
should not Mr. Barnes do everything he could to 
forward his candidature as an Independent, and 
then, just at the last moment retire in favour of 

“ No ! ” said Erb suddenly. 

The young woman did not conceal her disap- 
pointment at Erb’s unreasonable attitude. No am- 
bassador rebuffed in a mission on which future pro- 
motion depended, could have felt greater annoy- 


“ERB” 


271 


ance. But she recovered her usual amiability, and, 
leaving the discussion where it was, spoke further 
of her intentions in regard to Louisa and the trip 
to the South of France, on which subject she 
showed such real kindness that when Erb was pres- 
ently shown out into Eaton Square by Mr. Danks 
(“ Good evening, sir,” said Mr. Danks respect- 
fully), he felt something like contempt for himself 
for having declined so abruptly to accept her sug- 
gestion and advice. He went off to Payne’s house, 
where something was done to a magic piece of fur- 
niture that pretended ordinarily to Be a chair, 
whereupon it became a bedstead, and afforded com- 
fortable rest for the night. 

The next morning Erb, for about the first time 
in his life, found himself with nothing to do but to 
count the hours. He envied tb* easy careless- 
ness of men able to loaf outside the public-houses 

in Dover Street ; in some public gardens near 

there were able-bodied youths smoking cigarettes 
and sunning themselves luxuriously, content ap- 
parently to feel that there, at any rate, work could 
never force itself upon their attention, and no dan- 
ger existed of encountering a job. Whatever hap- 
pened, Erb knew that he would never slide down 
to this. It might well be that he would not find 
himself now in a position to ask Rosalind to become 
his wife, but he would never become a loafer. He 
* walked up through the increasingly busy crowd of 
High Street, Borough, and comparison between 
their state and his forced him to recognise the fact 


272 


“ERB” 


that in no place, under certain conditions, can one 
be so lonely as in London. 

“ The very man ! ” cried a voice. The hook of 
a walking-stick caught his arm. 

“ That you? ” said Erb. “ Get my letter? ” 

“ Got your letter,” said the white-haired La- 
bour M.P. in his swift, energetic way, “ and I’m 
going down now to put everything straight for 
you.” 

“ That’ll take a bit of doing.” 

“ I’ve had more twisted things to deal with than 
this. Which way were you going?” 

“ I scarcely know.” 

“ Then you’re coming down with me.” 

“ Shan’t I be rather in the way ? ” 

“ I hope so,” said the Labour M.P. 

A swift walker, the Labour M.P., and one with 
whom it was not easy to keep pace; he talked at 
a corresponding rate, so that by the time they 
reached the office of the London Railway Carmen’s 
Society, he was showing signs of exhaustion, and 
the duty of talking to Spanswick, who was perched 
on the window-sill on the landing, devolved upon 
Erb. Spanswick wore a look of perturbation and 
showed some desire not to look at Erb in speaking 
to him; he puffed at a ragged cigar, at which he 
glanced now and again with deep regret. 

“ I can’t make ’ead or tail of it,” said Spans- 
wick, despondently. “ It’s a mystery, that’s what 
it is. Why I should have trusted that man with 
untold gold.” 


“ERB” 


273 


“ What’s happened ? ” asked Erb. 

“ After all I’ve done for him, too,” went on 
Spanswick. “ I’ve treated him like a brother, I 
have ; I might go so far as to say I’ve treated him 
more like a friend than a brother. It was only 
last night that we were ’aving a few friendly glasses 
together — I paid for the last, worse luck ! — and he 
was talking about what he was going to do for the 
Society, and all the time he must have had this let- 
ter in his pocket, ready to pop in the post.” 

“ Where’s the key to this door? ” asked the La- 
bour M.P. sharply. 

“ He might well call himself Mister Doubleday,” 
went on Spanswick, finding the key in his pocket, 
“ I’ve never been more deceived in anybody in all 
my life. Him and me has been pals for over six 
weeks, and this is how he turns round and treats 

. - L t , ff 

me. 

“ What on earth are you talking about ? ” 

“ I’ve seen him home when it’s been necessary 
after the places were closed, and sometimes,” 
Spanswick admitted this grudgingly, “ sometimes of 
course, he’s seen me ’ome when it’s been necessary. 
He’s told me things about his early boyhood ; I’ve 
told him things about my early boyhood. If I’ve 
had more tobacco in me pouch than he has, he’s 
always been welcome to a pipeful. I got him the 
best berth he ever had in all his born days ” 

“ And outed me from it,” remarked Erb. 
“ What ?” 

“ But don’t it jest shew you,” demanded Spans- 


274 


“ERB” 


wick eagerly, “ how the very best of us can some- 
times be taken in? I’m looked on as a man who 
knows enough to come in when it rains, and I cer- 
tainly pride myself more on taking in others than 
being took in meself. And here am I, in me forty- 
second year ” 

“ Barnes ! ” called the voice of the Labour M.P. 
from the office, “ come here ! ” 

Spanswick went on growling to himself as Erb 
left him and entered the office. 

“ The books do not appear to have been touched 
since you left, ,> said the white-haired man. “ Not 
a figure, not a letter.” 

“ Then he can’t be accused of tampering with 
em. 

“ How much cash did you leave in the safe ? ” 
Erb showed the sum at the foot of a page in the 
accounts book. “ I’ve half a mind,” said the La- 
bour M.P., in a determined way, that suggested he 
was making an understatement, “ I have half a mind 
to break it open ! ” 

“ Wouldn’t it be better to give him a chance of 
coming back ? ” 

“ Read that letter ! ” 

Erb read a slip of paper that Doubleday had 
left on the desk. Doubleday had addressed it to 
the committee, and it told them that, finding his 
health was giving way under the stress of the few 
days’ work, he had decided to take a holiday. If 
there should be any little trifle short in the cash 
accounts, that would be replaced as soon as he 


“ERB” 


275 


could make it convenient to do so. He added that 
he had drawn the sum standing to the Society’s 
credit, because there was not enough money in 
the safe to enable him to take the somewhat length- 
ened holiday which he felt was necessary. Thank- 
ing them for all past favours, regretting their ac- 
quaintance had been so brief, and wishing the So- 
ciety every success, he remained, Theirs faithfully, 
Edward H. Doubleday. 

“ I’d like to know the worst,” said the Labour 
M. P. “ I suppose you’ve no experience in forc- 
ing looks ? ” 

“ It’s a branch of my education,” replied Erb, 
“ that’s been sadly neg — Why, the blessed 
thing’s open ! ” 

The safe was, indeed, unlocked, and this mat- 
tered the less, because the safe was quite empty. 
Erb struck a match and searched the corners ; there 
was nothing to be seen but an envelope bearing 
the words, “ I.O.U.,” a certain large amount, and 
Doubleday’s portentous signature. 

“What’s the next step, sir?” asked Erb. 

“ Set the police on his track.” 

“ And the next?” 

“ Call the committee together at the earliest pos- 
sible moment. Make them do what I should have 
induced them to do even though this had not hap- 
pened — reinstate you as secretary.” 

“ Anything else ? ” 

“ After that you and I can talk over this bye- 
electipn business. I think we shall get you in the 


27 6 


*‘ERB M 


House, Barnes, before you’re very much older.” 
The M.P. looked at his large silver watch, “ I must 
be moving. Deputation to the Home Secretary 
at one. Fine life ours, Barnes; always something 
doing. Always difficulties to be cleared away. 
You’ll enjoy it when you’re in the midst of it.” 

“ Think so?” 

The Labour M.P. hurried off, pushing Spans- 
wick aside as that desolate man made an effort to 
impart some further details of his acute grievance. 
Spanswick went to the door of the office, but found 
it shut in his face. 

“ Now, if I’d been in his place,” cried Spans- 
wick, through the keyhole, “ the least I should have 
thought of saying would have been ‘ ’Alves ! ’ ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


The bustle, the hurry, the excitement were 
again here ; the grievance that a day contained, only 
twenty-four hours reconstituted itself ; the feeling 
came once more that one was a person of some im- 
portance. But Erb, spite the old environments, 
found himself wanting in enthusiasm. He could 
not deny this, although for a time he tried to do so. 
Face to face with a situation that a month earlier 
would have aroused all his most aggressive instincts, 
he found he was quite unable to feel any excitement 
in the matter. The rebuff the men had given him he 
could not forget; the empty space that the dispute 
had made could not be easily bridged. Moreover, 
there were other matters which seemed larger and 
much more important than this to occupy his con- 
sideration. Rosalind brought Louisa back to town, 
the vacation being over, and Camberwell desiring 
to go on with its lessons in voice production, and 
Lady Frances, hearing of this from Alice, antedated 
her trip to the Continent, and, in her generous way, 
prepared to fly off with Louisa and Jessie, the maid; 
Louisa, dazed by the rapidity of events, said good- 
bye with apparent calm to her brother and her three 
most recent Hances. 


277 


278 


“ERB” 


“ Likely as not/’ said Louisa casually, “ I shall 
marry one of you when I come back ! ” 

“ Which ? ” inquired the three youths eagerly. 

“ The one that’s got the most money.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the young baker from Rotherhithe 
New Road contentedly. 

“ And the most sense.” 

“ Good ! ” remarked the assistant from the Free 
Library. 

“ And the best temper.” 

“ Right-o ! ” said the booking clerk from Wal- 
worth Road station. 

Lady Frances asked Erb to get an evening pa- 
per, and he went to the small bookstall on the plat- 
form. The train was on the point of starting, and 
he took up a Conservative evening paper. As he 
did so, he glanced at the placard that was being 
pinned to the stall, and observed a line “ Massacre 
of English Commission in Morocco.” He quickly 
bought another journal of an earlier edition. Later, 
when the train had gone, he found in the “ fudge ” 
of the first journal a brief message, printed uneven- 
ly, with a similar heading : — 

“ The Foreign Office has received news of the 
massacre of the English Commission recently sent 
out to Morocco. No particulars are to hand, but 
the Commission included the Lieutenant the 
Hon. ” 

“ Her young man ! ” cried Erb distressedly. 
“ Thought as much ! This’ll be a fearful upset for 
her.” 


“ERB” 


279 


He had some idea of going at once to Eaton 
Square, but this seemed of little use, and he had 
become so much accustomed to consulting Rosa- 
lind that he decided instead to go down to South- 
ampton Street. Arrived there, he found commotion 
of such importance that this trouble concerning 
Lady Frances took a second place. 

An ambulance stood inside the gate, near to the 
specimens of graveyard statuary, and on the steps 
of the house, a constable. 

“ Are you,” asks C 243, barring the way, “ any 
relation to the deceased? By deceased,” explains 
the constable, giving additional information with 
great wariness, “ he doesn’t, of course, mean de- 
ceased exactly, but nearly as good as that; he 
means old gentleman — white-haired old gentleman 
— that was knocked down by a cab in the Strand 
not half an hour ago, as he stooped down in the mid- 
dle of the roadway to pick up a halfpenny he 
dropped. Happened just at the corner of Welling- 
ton Street, it did. Knew the old chap by sight. 
One of what C 243 ventures to call the regulars. 
See them every day between Bedford Street and 
Wellington Street. You don’t know their names, 
of course,” says constable argumentatively, “ but, 
bless your soul, you know their faces so well 
that, when one of them drops out, it makes you feel 
as though you’ve lost a personal friend. Every one 
of them on the cadge, so C 243 understands, and 
apparently manage to live on by borrowing from 
each other. A rum life, if ever there was one ; no 
two ways about that.” 


28 o 


“ERB” 


44 Is he still able to recognise ? ” 

“ Old chap’s first words were 4 Not a hospital; 
take me home.’ Constable inquired where was 
home, and old chap managed to give the address. 
Whereupon constable, after deliberation with a col- 
league, decided to take four-wheeler and see old 
chap home as desired. Thought, perhaps, he was 
only a bit stunned. Or, perhaps, dazed. Instead 
of which, coming past the Obelisk, old chap sud- 
denly lurched forward, and ” 

The small servant came out and beckoned. 
The voice of Rosalind called gently. 

44 1 am here,” replies Erb. 

44 Want you just one moment.” 

A boy doctor who stood inside the room, en- 
deavouring to wear a look of uncountable years, 
nodded curtly, and went to the foot of the sofa. 
On the sofa lay the Professor, with a rug thrown 
over him, the rug close up to his chin, one hand 
free, and travelling restlessly over the pattern. 

44 That bourne,” whispered the Professor, 44 from 
which no traveller — You are a good lad, and 
you will look after her.” 

44 If she’ll let me,” says Erb. 44 How are you 
feeling, sir, by this time ? ” 

44 Look after her better than I have done. See 
that when you arrive at my state, laddie, you — you 
can glance back on your life with content.” 

Erb, with a kindly touch, pushed the Professor’s 
hair from his eyes, and the old man looked up grate- 
fully. Erb touched his hand, and the hand gripped 


“ERB” 


281 


his as though with desire to attach itself to some- 
thing reliable. 

“ I’m slipping,” said the Professor simply. He 
closed his eyes, and presently reopened them as 
with difficulty. “We few, we happy few, we band 
of brothers. Give me the word, sir, give me the 
word. What in Heaven’s name,” with sudden 
indignation, “ is the use of having a prompter 
if ” 

Rosalind, keeping her tears back, came with the 
heavy volume, opening it quickly at the place where 
a ringletted youth in a steel engraving was address- 
ing soldiers. 

Erb discovering the lines with the aid of Rosa- 
lind’s finger, gave the cue. “ For he to-day — ” 
The old Professor goes on. 

“ 4 For he to-day that sheds his blood with me 
Shall be my be-rother! be he ne’er so vile. This 
day shall gentle his condition, And gentlemen 
in England, And gentlemen in England.’ No 
use,” said the Professor weakly, “ my study’s 
gone.” 

“ Don’t bother about it, sir.” 

“ Laddie,” said the Professor, “ you — you think 
me a thriftless, miserable wastrel.” 

“ No, no,” answered Erb. “ Not that exactly. 
But we’re none of us perfect.” 

“ Eve reached me last hour, and the time has 
come for plain speech. I’ve been — * a smile 
dared to creep halfway across the Professor’s face. 
“ Eve been a fraud.” 


282 


“ERB” 


“ Father,” said Rosalind brokenly. ‘ You’ve 
always been the dearest, dearest ” 

The boy doctor, snatching the opportunity to 
whisper to Erb, who could not lose the Professor’s 
hand, said that he had administered a sleeping 
draught: if the Professor desired to say anything 
it would be better to allow him to speak without in- 
terruption. 

“ I have been a fraud,” repeated the Professor, 
with something of relish. “ I have been a — 

* Neither a borrower or a lender be. For borrow- 
ing oft ’ ” 

“ You’ve always been welcome, sir.” 

“ I have been the most fraudulent of all frauds. 
There is a note in my desk to send to the * Era.’ I 
have often, in my salad days, advertised in the ‘ Era.’ 
I think they will put it in.” 

“ I’ll pay them to, if necessary.” 

The Professor gave a faint echo of a chuckle. 
“ How they will talk about it in the Strand ! I’d 
give the remainder of my life to hear them.” 

The old, old mouth, twisted in the effort to dis- 
play amusement, and remained twisted; one eye- 
lid nearly closed. The boy doctor looked anxiously 
from the foot of the sofa : Rosalind knelt. 

“ You’re going to have a nice long sleep, sir,” 
said Erb, bending down. “ And you’ll wake up a 
different man, bless you.” 

“ I shall wake up,” repeated the Professor slow- 
ly, “ wake up a different man.” 

Both eyelids closing now, he turned his white 


“ERB n 


283 


head a little towards the wall. Presently his grip 
of Erb’s hand relaxed, and Erb, disengaging him- 
self, went with the others to the window, where the 
three spoke in an undertone, Erb holding Rosalind's 
elbows supportingly. A slight groan from the 
sofa called the doctor. 

“ All over,” announced the boy doctor, with a 
desperate effort to assume the air of one used to 
making such announcements, and rendered callous 
by long centuries of habit. “ I'll let the Coroner’s 
officer know. Don’t mind my running off, do 
you ? Fearfully busy, just now.” 

The Professor’s words were counted as the mere 
wandering of speech, and dismissed from memory 
until, when the inquest was over, and some days 
later the journey to Honor Oak cemetery and back 
at an end, Erb took upon himself the duty of ex- 
amining the locked drawers of the desk. Then it 
was found that tardily in his life, the Professor had 
hinted at truth, for books entitled Post Office Sav- 
ings Bank were discovered there, and it was real- 
ised that this old spendthrift, this most careless 
member of a careless profession, had hoarded care- 
fully throughout his life, engaging stray half-crowns, 
only to add them instantly to his store, and the five 
brown covered books announced that to his credit 
stood what seemed to Erb and to Rosalind the ex- 
travagant fortune of nearly four hundred pounds. 
A will, drawn up in commendable order, directed 
that all this was left to “ my dear daughter Rosa- 
lind, and may she forgive her father for many short- 


284 


“ERB n 


comings, and think of him if she can, with affection 
and regard.” 

“ This,” said Erb, when he had reckoned up 
the amounts on a slip of paper, “ this is very 
satisfactory for you, but it makes all the difference 
to me.” 

“ It’s going to make no sort of difference what- 
ever,” said Rosalind emphatically. 

“ Money matters always do.” 

“ Depends on the people who have the money. 
Money in itself doesn’t bring happiness, but it 
doesn’t follow that it destroys it. Your Lady Fran- 
ces, for instance ” 

“ What makes you call her my Lady Frances? ” 

“ She looks upon you as her property,” said 
Rosalind, turning away. 

“ If I hadn’t got such a stiff collar on I’d 
laugh,” declared Erb. “ By the bye, I’m very glad 
to see by to-day’s papers that her sweetheart was on 
his way back before that nasty affair took place out 
near Tetuan ; mysterious thing, rather. Been tele- 
graphed for apparently, by somebody.” 

“ I know.” 

“ You saw about it in the paper? ” 

“ No,” said Rosalind. 

“ Well, but how ” 

“ I sent the telegram,” she said quietly. “ I 
thought it better he should be back here. I didn’t 
want her to get you.” 

Erb took her hands. She tried to keep her lips 
from his, but she tried for a moment only. 


“ERB” 285 

“ This simplifies matters,” he said. “ I never 
could tell whether you liked me or not.” 

“ You never asked ! ” 

“ People will say I married you for your money,” 
he said half jokingly. 

“ And I shall know,” replied Rosalind, patting 
his face, “ that you married me because — because 
you liked me.” 


19 


CHAPTER XVII 


Silk hatted men were hurrying to and fro in 
the lobby, each with an air of bearing the responsi- 
bilities of the Empire on his shoulders ; cards were 
being sent in by the attendants : a few country visi- 
tors stood about near to the statue of Mr. Gladstone 
waiting awkwardly for the arrival of their member. 
Swing-doors moved unceasingly: now and again 
two members would encounter each other and con- 
sult furtively with wrinkled foreheads, and visitors 
stood back from the round space at the centre with 
awe and respect, giving them room. Erb, in a 
morning coat and a necktie of such gaiety, that 
alone it betrayed the fact of his wedding-day, was 
an event not yet forgotten, strolled about, less 
appalled by the surroundings than most, so that 
provincials came to him now and again and 
made inquiries. Whenever he had been to the 
House before he had always felt wistful, and 
had looked through corridor to the inner lobby 
with anticipation ; this evening the feeling 
was absent. 

“Haven’t kept you waiting I hope, Barnes?” 
The white-haired Labour member bustling out was 
conspicuous by reason of his bowler hat. “ Rather 
a lot of things to do one way and another. When 
286 


“ERB” 


287 


you get here you’ll find — I can’t see him now,” 
answering a messenger. “ Tell him I’m going 
down to Bermondsey to put something straight 
that has got crooked, and I shall not be back till ten. 
Tell him that ! ” 

“ Cab or ’bus ? ” inquired Erb, as they went 
down the broad steps. 

“’Bus,” said the Labour member, promptly. 
“ Somebody might see us if we took a hansom. 
You’ll find that you can’t be too careful. And 
there’s another thing, too. Flower in your coat, 
you know ” 

With axiom and words of counsel, the white- 
haired member shortened the journey from West- 
minster to the rooms in Grange Road ; Erb listening 
with a proper deference, and refraining from all but 
appropriate and well-chosen interruptions. The 
member appeared stimulated by the task before him, 
and Erb felt quite mature in remembering the time 
when he, too, would have found his blood run 
quicker at the prospect of argument. His com- 
panion hurried up the corkscrew staircase of the cof- 
fee-house, Erb following slowly, nodding to a few of 
the men who, with anxious expression of counte- 
nance stood about on the landing. He went into a 
room at the side, where he hoped to be alone. 
Spanswick, however, had seen him, and Spanswick, 
following in, took a wooden chair on the opposite 
side of the table. But Erb’s old van boy interposed, 
big with a message. The chief had sent him (said 
William Henry) to mention in confidence that, if 


288 


“ERB” 


Erb cared to come back to his former position — 
“ Extraordinary thing/’ said Erb, “ how much the 
world wants you when you show that you don’t want 
the world. No answer, William Henry, only 
thanks.” 

“ I’ve been telling a lot of ’em,” said Spanswick, 
jerking his hand in the direction of the other room 
as the young diplomatist went, “ that if they take my 
advice, Erb, they’ll ask you to come back.” 

“ I see ! ” 

“ I’ve pointed out to ’em that they’ve blundered 
all along. That matter of the cheque, for instance — 
it’s proved that it’s never been cashed and, therefore, 
as I say, the money could never have come into your 
pocket. On the top of that,” said Spanswick, with 
something like indignation, “ they go and select 
a bounder like old Doubleday. Why I could see 
what the man was like from the very start. I took 
his measure the first time I came across him. A 
talkative, interfering, muddle-headed gas-bag — I 
told some of ’em that it was a wonder they got men 
to take the trouble to lead them at all.” 

“ It is a wonder ! ” 

“ And here they are now,” said Spanswick, ris- 
ing to go and join in the deliberations of the next 
room, “ here they are now down on their ’ands and 
knees without a single penny in the cash-box, 
worse off than they’ve ever been ever since the So- 
ciety started, and not one amongst ’em capable of 
taking what you may call the reins of government 
in hand. It all comes,” concluded Spanswick, tap- 


“ERB” 


289 


ping at his nose with his forefinger, “ it all comes 
through people not listening to the advice of the 
few of us,” here he struck his waistcoat impres- 
sively, “ the few of us, either me and you, that 
know.” 

Through the partition Erb could hear the voice 
of the Labour member. Impossible to distinguish 
the words, but clearly there was reproof in the tones 
at first ; this gave place later to the quieter key of 
counsel. The men who had hitherto been silent 
began to applaud; fists struck the table with ap- 
proval, and presently there came the sound of em- 
phatic cheering that had often made Erb warm with 
pleasure. 

“ You’re wanted, old man,” said Payne, opening 
the door importantly. “ Foller me into the next 
room, will you ? ” 

The old scent of gas and cheap tobacco and cor- 
duroys. The old faces looking round as he entered, 
elbows resting on the table, some of the men with 
tumblers before them, others, wearing the stern look 
of sobriety, had been making notes of the speech to 
which they had just listened. Circular stains on the 
long wooden T-shaped tables ; the impaled adver- 
tisements on the wall awry as though affected by the 
perfumes coming up from the bar downstairs. The 
dulled mirrors at the end reflected the room mistily 
with its frame protected eternally by tissue paper. 
The barman waiting for orders at the doorway gave 
Erb a tap of encouragement as he went in. 

“ Bravo ! vo ! vo ! vo ! ” murmured the room. 


290 


<ERB” 


“ Order ! order ! ” said the Chairman. “ I call 
on our old and trusted friend — I forget his blessed 
name — from Paddington Parcels, at any rate, to ad- 
dress the meeting.” 

The Paddington Parcels member cleared his 
throat and rose* He had been one of the first to go 
over, and this he frankly admitted. “ Gives me all 
the more title,” said Paddington Parcels determined- 
ly, “ to undertake what Pm undertaking of now.” 

Paddington Parcels handsomely offered to cut a 
long story short, and the room gave encouragement 
to this proposal, whereupon he proceeded to speak 
at intolerable length with ever, “ Just one word and 
I’ve done,” and “ Let me add a couple of words 
more,” and “ Finally, I should like to remark,” 
and other phrases all suggesting an immediate fin- 
ish, anticipation not justified by results. 

Summarised, the argument was that the society 
had made a grievous blunder; that when a chap 
made a mistake he should apologise for it and 
set it right; that a society was like a chap, and 
should behave as a chap would, and that in the pres- 
ent deplorable state of the society there was only 
one thing they could do, namely, to ask Erb Barnes 
to let byegones be byegones, and to come back and 
resume the secretaryship. When, after many feints 
of sitting down, thus arousing the oratorical desires 
of those anxious to second the resolution, and al- 
ways thinking of more words that retained him in a 
standing position, Paddington Parcels did unex- 
pectedly resume his seat, there was great compe- 


“ERB” 


291 


tition for the honour of speaking next, and twenty 
faces looked gloomy and disappointed when Payne 
was selected. Payne spoke briefly. Every society 
had its ups and downs : this society was just now 
all in the downs, as the song had it. But it was well 
worth while to have such an experience, if only to 
see his old chum, his good old chum Erb, righted in 
the eyes of everybody and restored to a position that 
he ought never to have quitted. 

The Labour member begged leave (his tones in- 
timating nothing of humility) to say a few words 
before this was put to the vote. The society had 
been compared to a man, but the society, as a so- 
ciety, was, so to speak, a mere child, and it had re- 
cently behaved in the impulsive wrong-headed man- 
ner of a child. That might be overlooked once; 
it would not be overlooked a second time. Mind 
that! Brains had been served out to one and all, 
but some hadn’t quite got their proper share with 
the result that others had more than the average 
supply, and if the man who had come out rather 
short in the matter had not sufficient sense, when 
in a position of difficulty, to ask advice from those 
fully equipped, why the men with the short supply 
would have to put up with the consequences of their 
own blundering. And there was another thing. The 
success of the labour movement as a whole depend- 
ed on the loyalty of the men to those who were do- 
ing brain work on their behalf; let that loyalty 
once exhibit anything of doubt and the whole 
scheme, the whole business, the whole movement — 


292 


“ERB” 


the Labour member struck the wooden table em- 
phatically at each variant of the phrase — the whole 
show would go to pot. All the same, he congratu- 
lated them on the wise decision at which they were 
about to arrive, and he strongly urged his friend Erb 
Barnes, “ in consideration of certain prospective 
events,” said the white-haired member, lowering 
his voice mysteriously, “ of which he is aware, but 
cannot at the present time be made public,” to ac- 
cept good-temperedly the invitation of the men. 

The men had kept silent whilst receiving criti- 
cism ; at these last words they rose from the Wind- 
sor chairs and shouted approval. The shirt sleeved 
waiter went up and down the tables, culling empty 
glasses and making them into a bouquet. Erb 
went to the mantelpiece, and resting one hand 
there, spoke quietly. Every face turned in his di- 
rection. “ I think,” said the Chairman importantly, 
“ I think I may say carried per se — I mean nem. 
con.” 

“ Em not going to occupy your time for long,” 
said Erb from the fireplace when the renewed cheer- 
ing had ceased. “ You’ll have other business to do 
— (No, no) — and, contrary to my usual practice, I’m 
going to be very brief indeed. There have been 
times when you’ve heard me speak at a consider- 
able length, and for all your kindness to me under 
those circumstances I give you my thanks. I 
shan’t ever trouble you again to that extent. A 
month or so ago you met here — you, just the same 
men that you are now — and you gave me the sack. 


“ERB” 


293 


You never gave me a chance of defending myself 
or explaining my actions ; you just pushed me off.” 

The room murmured an unintelligible protest. 

“ You just pushed me off. You jilted me. 
You broke off the engagement. Chaps, that broken 
engagement can’t be mended. We’re all consti- 
tuted differently, I suppose, but I’m like this : if 
anybody’s faithful to me I should be glad of the 
opportunity of going through fire and water for 
them, if they’re not, then fire and water are things 
they can go through for themselves. I reckon I’ve 
been in love with this society for the last year, and 
I’ve been loyal to it; now I’m in love with some- 
body else.” 

“ Who ? ” demanded the room. 

“ I’m in love,” said Erb, turning to glance at 
himself contentedly in the clouded mirror, “ in love 
with my wife.” 

“ In love with his wife! ” said the members to 
each other amazedly. 

“ Some people possess a stock of enthusiasm 
that’s got no limits ; mine all vanished, I find, di- 
rectly you treated me unfairly. My friend who’s 
kindly come down from Westminster to talk to 
you knows that I’m giving up prospects that would 
tempt a good many ; it’s only honest to tell you that 
those prospects, which a month since would have 
made my head swell, at this moment don’t allure 
me in the slightest degree. I think — I don’t know, 
mind — I think I’m seeing things clearer than I did. 
I thought all the right and all the justice and all the 


294 


“ERB” 


everything was on our side ; I’ve come to see that, 
as a matter of fact, it’s about fairly divided. I’m 
going to take up a little business on my own account 
down in Wandsworth as a master carman, and I 
should be very glad, chaps, if you could manage to 
— to wish me luck. I’m going now. I’m going to 
leave you to go on with the business of appointing a 
secretary. There’s plenty of capable men in the 
world, and the opportunity always finds them. So 
I wish you every prosperity, and I wish we may al- 
ways keep friends, because some day we might find 
ourselves shoulder to shoulder again. And I wish 
you — ” Erb hesitated for a moment in order to 
steady his voice, “ I wish you good-bye.” 

The men crowded towards the doorway as Erb 
went in that direction. 

“ Come back to us, old man,” they cried. “ We 
want you. Can’t you see that ” 

On the opposite side of the roadway below, 
warmly jacketed in view of the coolness of an au- 
tumn evening, a pleasant figure walked to and fro. 
Regardless of the circumstances that faces looked 
down from the windows, Erb hurried across and 
kissed her. 

Up the street they walked, arm-in-arm with each 
other, and arm-in-arm with happiness. 


(i) 


THE END 


APPLETONS’ 

i2mo. 


TOWH AMD COUNTRY LIBRARY. 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY. 

Cloth, $1.00 ; paper 50 cents. 


318. Unofficial. By Mrs. W. R. D. 

Fo HB E9 

317. “Erb.” By W. Pett Ridge. 

316. A Lady’s Honour. By Bass 
Blake. 

315. Tales About Temperaments. By 
John Oliver Hobbes. 

314. The Way of a Man. By Morley 
Roberts. 

313. The Credit of the County. By 
W. E. Norris. 

312. A Welsh Witch. By Allen 
Raine. 

311. T’Bacca Queen. By T. Wilson 
Wilson. 

310. Drewitt's Dream. By W. L.Alden. 
309. Love in Its Tenderness. By J. R. 
Aitken 

308. A Fool’s Year. By E. H. Cooper. 
307. Love’s Itinerary. By J. C. Snaith. 
306. The Fortunes of Christina M‘Nab. 

By S. Macn AUGHT AN. 

305. The Most Famous Loba. By 
Nellie K. Blissett. 

304. The Devastators. By Ada Cam- 
bridge. 

303. When Love Flies Out o’ the Win- 
dow. By Leonard Merrick. 
302. A Woman Alone. By Mrs. W. K. 
Clifford. 

301. Four-Leaved Clover. By Max- 
well Gray 

300. The Seal of Silence. By Arthur 
R. Conder. 

299. From the Unsounded Sea. By 
Nellie K. Blissett. 

298. The Mystery of the Clasped Hands. 
By Guy Boothby. 

297. The Claim Jumpers. By Stewart 
Edward White. 

296. A Royal Exchange. By J. Mac- 
Laren Cobban. 

295. A Hero in Homespun. By William 
E. Barton. 

294. My Indian Queen. By Guy 
Boothby. 

293. Path and Goal. By Ada Cam- 
bridge. 

292. King Stork of the Netherlands. 
By Albert Lee. 

291. A Private Chivalry. By Francis 
Lynde 

290. The Flower of the Flock. By W. 
E Norris 

289. The Jay-Hawkers. By Adela E. 
Orpen. 

288. Brown of Lost River. By Mary 
E. Stickney. 


287. The Last Sentence. By Maxwell 
Gray. 

286. The Minister’s Guest. By Isabel 
Smith. 

285. The Seafarers. By John Bloun- 
delle-Burton. 

284. The Lunatic at Large. By J. 
Storer Clouston. 

283. Garthowen. By Allen Raine. 

282. The Immortal Garland. By Anna 
Robeson Brown. 

281. Mirry-Ann. By Norma Lori- 
mer. 

280. A Maker of Nations. By Guy 
Boothby. 

279. The Gentleman Pensioner. By 

At pfrt T y . 1 f 

278. The World’s 'Mercy. By Max- 
well Guay. 

277. The Story of Ronald Kestrel. By 
A. J. Dawson. 

276. A Corner of the West. By Edith 
Henrietta Fowler. 

275. The Idol of the Blind. By T. 
Gallon. 

274. A Voyage at Anchor. By W. 
Clark Russell. 

273. The Heiress of the Season. By Sir 
William Magnay, Bart. 

272. A Bitter Heritage. By John 
Bloundelle-Burton. 

271. Lady Barbarity. By J. C. Snaith. 

270. The Strange Story of Hester 
Wynne By G. Colmore. 

269. Dr. Nikola’s Experiment. By 
Guy Boothby. 

268. The Game and the Candle. By 
Rhoda Broughton. 

267. The Kingdom of Hate. By T. 
Gallon. 

266. A Cosmopolitan Comedy. By 
Anna Robeson Brown. 

265. Fortune’s my Foe. By John 
Bloundelle-Burton. 

264. Madame Iz&n. By Mrs. Camp- 
bell-Praed. 

263. Pursued by the Law. By J. Mac- 
Laren Cobban. 

262. Paul Carah, Comishman. By 
Charles Lee. 

261. Pharos, the Egyptian. By Guy 
Boothby. 

260. By Berwen Banks. By Allen 
Raine. 

259. The Procession of Life. By Hor- 
ace A. Vachell. 

258. Ricroft of Withens. By Halli- 
well Sutcliffe. 


APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.— (Continued.') 


257. The Knight of the Golden Chain. 

By R. D. Chetwode. 

256. A Writer of Books. By G. Paston. 
255. The Key of the Holy House. By 
Albert Lee. 

254. Belinda— and Some Others. By 
Ethel Maude. 

253. The Impediment. By Dorothea 
Gerard. 

252. Concerning Isabel Carnaby. By 
Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler. 
251. The Scourge of God. By J. 

Bloundelle-Burton. 

250. Tbe Widower. By W. E. Nor- 
ris. 

249. The Gospel Writ in Steel. By Ar- 
thur Paterson. 

248. The Lust of Hate. By G. Boothby. 
247. Dicky Monteith. By T. Gallon. 
246. The (Queen’s Cup. By G. A. Henty. 
245. The Looms of Time. By Mrs. H. 
Fraser. 

244. The Millionaires. By F. F. Moore. 
243. John of Strathbourne. By R. D. 
Chetwode. 

242. Materfamilias. By A. Cambridge. 
241. Torn Sails. By A. Raine. 

240. A Trooper of the Empress. By C. 
Ross. 

239. The Lake of Wine. By B. Capes. 
238. The Incidental Bishop. By G. 
Allen. 

237. A Forgotten Sin. By D. Gerard. 
236. This Little World. By D. C. Mur- 
ray. 

235. A Passionate Pilgrim. By P. 
White. 

234. A Prince of Mischance. By T. Gal- 
lon. 

233. A Fiery Ordeal. By Tasma. 

232. Sunset. By B. Whitby. 

231. Sweethearts and Friends. By M. 
Gray. 

230. The Freedom of Henry Meredyth. 
By M. Hamilton. 

229. Miss Providence. By D. Gerard. 
228. God’s Foundling. By A. J. Daw- 
son. 

227. The Clash of Arms. By J. Bloun- 
delle-Burton. 

226. Fortune’s Footballs. By G. B. 
Burgin. 

225. A Soldier of Manhattan. By J. A. 
Altsheler 

224. Mifanwy : A WelslTSinger. By A. 
Raine. 

223. His Majesty’s Greatest Subject. By 
S. S. Thorburn 

222. A Colonial Free-Lance. By C. C. 
Hotchkiss. 

221. The Folly of Pen Harrington. By 
J. Sturgis. 

220. Nulma. By Mrs. Campbell-Praed. 
219. Dear Faustina. By R. Broughton. 


218. Marietta’s Marriage. By W. E. 
Norris. 

217. Fierceheart, the Soldier. By J. C. 
Snaith. 

216. The Sun of Saratoga. By J. A. 
Altsheler 

215. The Beautiful’White Devil. By G. 
N Boothby. 

214. A Galahad of the Creeks. By S. L. 
Yeats. 

213. A Spotless Reputation. By D. 
Gerard. 

212. Perfection City. By Mrs. Orpen. 
211. A Pinchbeck Goddess. By Mrs. J. 

M. Fleming (A. M. Kipling). 

210. Tatterley. By T. Gallon. 

209. Arrested. By E. Stuart. 

208. The Career of Candida. By G. 
Paston. 

2C7. McLeod of the Camerons. By M. 
Hamilton. 

206. Fellow Travellers. By G. Travers. 
205. With Fortune Made. By V. Cher- 
buliez. 

204. Master Ardick, Buccaneer. By F. 
H. Costello. 

203. The Intriguers. By J. D. Barry. 
202. The Idol-Maker. By A. Sergeant. 
201. A Court Intrigue. By B. Thompson. 
200. Denounced. By J. Bloundelle- 
Burton. 

199. The King’s Revenge. By C. Bray. 
198. An Outcast of the Islands. By J. 
Conrad. 

197. Dr. Nikola. By G. Boothby. 

196. A Humble Enterprise. By A. Cam- 
bridge. 

195. The Riddle Ring. By J. McCar- 
thy. 

194. The Madonna of a Day. By L. 
Dougall. 

193. The Picture of Las Cruces. By C. 
Reid. 

192. A Winning Hazard. By Mrs. 
Alexander. 

191. The Chronicles of Martin Hewitt. 
By A. Morrison. 

190. The Dancer in Yellow. By W. E. 
Norris. 

189. A Flash of Summer. By Mrs. W. 
K. Clifford. 

188. Mistress Dorothy Marvin. ByJ. C. 
Snaith. 

187. In the Day of Adversity. By J. 

Blo undelle-Burton . 

186. The W T rong Man. By D. Gerard. 
185. The Lost Stradivarius. By J. M„ 
Falkner. 

184. Successors to the Title. By Mrs. L. 
B. W ai.ford. 

183. A Self Denying Ordinance. By M. 
Hamilton. 

182. The Desire of the Moth. By C. 
Vane. 


APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.— ( Continued.) 


181. Mrs. Tregaskiss. By Mrs. Camp- 
bbll-Praed. 

180. The King of Andaman. By J. M. 
Cobban. 

179. A Bid for Fortune. By G. 
Boothby. 

178. In Defiance of the King. By C. C. 

T4 ATPWti TQQ 

177. Scylla or" Charybdis ? By R. 
Broughton. 

176. Out of Due Season. By A. Ser- 
geant. 

175. Not Counting the Cost. By Tasma. 
174. Mrs. Musgrave— and Her Husband. 
By R. Marsh. 

173. In Old New England. By H. 
Butterwobth. 

172. In the Year of Jubilee. By G. Gis- 

SING. 

171. The Mistress of Quest. By A. Ser- 
geant. 

170. A Study in Prejudices. By G. 
Paston. 

169. The Vengeance of James Vansit- 
tart. By Mrs. J. H. Needell. 
168. Into the Highways and Hedges. 

By F. F. MontrIssor. 

167. Fidelis. By A. Cambridge. 

106. The Marriage of Esther. By G. 
Boothby. 

165. Eve’s Ransom. By G. Gissing. 
164. An Arranged Marriage. By D. 
Gerard. 

163. The Mermaid. By L. Dougall. 
162. Kitty’s Engagement. By F. War- 
den. 

161. The Honour of Savelli. By S. L. 
Yeats. 

160. Noemi. By S. Baring-Gould. 

159 The Good Ship Mohock. By W. C. 
Russell. 

158. Dust and Laurels. By M. L. Pen- 
dered. 

157. The Justification of Andrew Le- 
brun. By F. Barrett. 

156. At the Gate of Samaria. By W. J. 
Locke. 

155. Children of Circumstance. By Mrs. 
M. Capfyn. 

154. The God in the Car. By A. Hope. 
353. A Mild Barbarian. By E. Faw- 
cett. 

152. The Trail of the Sword. By G. 
Parker. 

151. A Victim of Good Luck. By W. E. 
Norris. 

150. Timar’s Two Worlds. ByM. Jokai. 
149 Vashti and Esther. 

148. George Mandeville’s Husband. By 
C. E. Raimond. 

147. Dr. Janet of Harley Street. By A. 
Kenealy. 

146. Outlaw and Lawmaker. By Mrs. 
Campbell-Praed. 


145. A Daughter of Music. By G. Col- 
more. 

144. Red Diamonds. By J. McCarthy. 
143. Mary Fenwick’s Daughter. By B. 
Whitby. 

142. The Rich Miss Riddell. By D. 
Gerard. 

141. The Trespasser. By G. Parker. 
140. The Rubicon. By E. F. Benson. 
139. A Yellow Aster. By Mrs. M. Caf- 
fyn (“ Iota"). 

138. A Beginner. By R. Broughton. 
137. A Costly Freak. By M. Gray. 

136. Our Manifold Nature. By S. 
Grand. 

135. Lot 13. By D. Gerard. 

134. A Ward in Chancery. By Mrs. 
Alexander. 

133. A Marriage Ceremony. By A. 
Cambridge. 

132. Earlscourt. By A. Allardyce. 
131. A Gray Eye or So. By F. F. 
Moore. 

130. Christina Chard. By Mrs. Camp- 
eell-Praed. 

129. The Recipe for Diamonds. By C. 
J. C. Hyne. 

128. Diana Tempest. By M. Cholmon- 
deley. 

127. A Woman of Forty. By E. Stuart. 
126. Dodo : A Detail of the Day. By 
E. F. Benson. 

125. Relics. By F. MacNab. 

124. A Comedy of Masks. By E. Dow- 
son and A. Moore. 

123. Ideala. By S. Grand. 

122. An Innocent Impostor, and Other 
Stories. By M. Gray. 

121. From the Five Rivers. By Mrs. F. 
.A Steel 

120. The Tutor’s Secret. By V. Cher- 
buliez. 

119. Lucia, Hugh, and Another. By 
Mrs. J. H. Needell. 

118. Suspected. By L. Stratenus. 

1 17. Singularly Deluded. By S. Grand. 
116. The Voice of a Flower. By E. 
Gerard. 

115. Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon. ByH. 
Caine. 

114. A Little Minx. By A. Cambridge. 
113. Children of Destiny. By M. E. 
Seawell 

112. Dr. Pauli’s Theory. By Mrs. A. M. 
Diehl. 

111. Commander Mendoza. By J. Va- 
lera. 

110$. An Englishman in Paris. 

110. Stories in Black and White. By 
T. Hardy and Others. 

109. In the Suntime of her Youth. By 
B. Whitby. 

106. A Comedy of Elopement. By C. 
Reid. 


APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.— {Continued.) 


107. Hanging Moss. By P. Lindau. 
106. A Stumble on the Threshold. By 
J. Payn. 

105. Mrs. Bligh. By R. Broughton. 
104. Mona Maclean, Medical Student. 
By G. Travers. 

103. The Berkeleys and their Neighbors. 

By M. E. Seawell. 

102. In Old St. Stephen’s. By J. Drake. 
101. Passing the Love of Women. By 
Mrs. J. H. Needell. 

100. His Life’s Magnet. By T. Elmslie. 
99. Cross Currents. By M. A. Dickens. 
98. Etelka’s Vow. By D. Gerard. 

97. Jean de Kerdren. By J. Schultz. 
96. “ December Roses.” By Mrs. Camp- 
bell- Praed. 

95. “ La Bella ” and Others. By E. 
Castle. 

94. A Queen of Curds and Cream. By 
D. Gerard. 

93. The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Wil- 
liams. By R. M. Joh <ston. 

92. Don Braulio. By J. Valera. 

Translated by C. Bell. 

91. Amethyst. By C. R. Coleridge. 
90. Tbe Story of Philip Methuen. By 
Mrs. J. H. Needell. 

89. My Guardian. By A. Cambridge. 
88. It Happened Yesterday. By F. 
Marshall. 

87. Not All in Vain. By A. Cam- 
bridge. 

86. Love or Money. By K. Lee. 

85. The Flight of a Shadow. By G. 
MacDonald. 

84. A Widower Indeed. By R. Brough- 
ton and E. Bisland. 

80. The Johnstown Stage, and Other 

Stories. By R. H. Fletcher. 

82. The Tragedy of Ida Noble. By 
W. C. Russell. 

81. One Reason Why. By B. Whitby. 
80. Stephen Ellicott’s Daughter. By 

Mrs. J. H. Needell. 

79. A Merciful Divorce. By F. W. 
Maude. 

78. One Woman’s Way. By E. Pen- 
dleton. 

77. Maid Marian, and Other Stories. 

By M. E. Seawell. 

76. A Matter of Skill. By B. Whitby. 
75. The Three Miss Kings. By A. 
Cambridge. 

74. Consequences. By E. Castle. 

73. In the Heart of the Storm. By M. 
Gray. 

72. The Maid of Honor. By Hon. L. 
Wingfield. 

71. Stories of Old New Spain. By T. 
A. Janvier. 

70. The Iron Game. By H. F. Keenan. 
69. The Primes and their Neighbors. 
By R. M. Johnston. 


68. Pepita Ximenez. By J. Valera. 
Translated by Mrs. M. J. Ser- 
rano. 

67. Dona Luz. By J. Valera. Trans- 
lated by Mrs M. J. Serrano. 

66. A Sensitive Plaut. By E. and D. 
Gerard. 

65. The Nugents of Carriconna. By T. 
Hopkins. 

64. A Fluttered Dovecote. By G. M. 
Fenn. 

63. A Squire of Low Degree. By L. A. 
Long. 

62. The Canadians of Old. By P. 
Gaspe. 

61. In Low Relief. By M. Roberts. 

60. Bismarck in Private Lile. By a 
Fellow-Student. 

59. Part of the Property. By B. Whitby. 
58. Dmitri. By F. W. Bain, M. A. 

57. Geoffrey Hampstead. By T. S. 
Jarvis. 

56. Expatriation. By the author of 
Aristocracy. 

55. Throckmorton. By M. E. Seawell. 
54. Katy of Catoctin. By G. A. Town- 
send. 

53. Joost Avelingh. By M. Maartens. 
52. Aline. By H. Greville. 

51. Lai. By W. A. Hammond, M. D. 

50. The Craze of Christian Engelliart. 
By H. F. Darnell. 

49. Djambek the Georgian. By A. G. 

VON SUTTNER. 

48. Frozen Hearts. By G. W. Apple - 

TON. 

47. Robert Browning’s Principal Short- 
er Poems. 

46. Countess Irene. By J. Fogerty. 

45. The Dean’s Daughter. By S. F. F. 
Veitch. 

44. Blind Love. By W. Collins. 

43. Countess Loreley. By R. Menger. 
42. The Awakening of Mary Fenwick. 
By B. Whitby. 

41. Passion’s Slave. By R. Ashe-King. 
40. The Romance of Jenny Harlowe, 
and Sketches of Maritime Life. 
By W. C. Russell. 

39. A Hardy Norseman. By E. Lyall. 
38. Giraldi. By R. G. Dering. 

37. In the Golden Days. By E. Lyall. 
36. The Knight-Errant. By E. Lyall. 
35. Mistress Beatrice Cope. By M. E. 
Le Clerc. 

34. The Light of Her Countenance. By 

TT TT RnvY«n?v 

33. The Story of Helen Davenant. By 
V. Fane. 

32. Won by Waiting. By E. Lyall. 

31. American Coin. By the author of 
Aristocracy. 

30}. The Black Poodle. By F: Anstey. 
30. Lace. By P. Lindau. 


APPLETONS’ TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.— (Confirm?.) 


29. In the Wire Grass. By L. Pendle- 
ton. 

28. Near to Happiness. 

27. The Reproach of Annesley. By M. 
Gray. 

26. The Ladies’ Gallery. By J. McCar- 
thy and Mrs. Campbell-Praed. 

25. A Dreamer of Dreams. By the au- 
thor of Thoth. 

24. We two. By E. Lyall. 

23. Constance, and Calbot’s Rival. By 
J. Hawthorne. 

22. Arius the Libyan. 

21. Raleigh Westgate. By H. K. John- 
son. 

20. The Apostate. By E. Daudet. 

19. A Fair Emigrant. By R. Mulhol- 
land. 

18. This Mortal Coil. By G. Allen. 

17. Donovan. By E. Lyall. 

16. The Master of Rathkeliy. By H. 
Smart. 

15. The Secret of Fontaine la Croix. By 
M. Field. 


14. A Recoiling Vengeance. By F. 

Barrett. 

13. Aristocracy. 

12. The Mystery of the “ Ocean Star.” 
By W. C. Russell. 

11. The Elect Lady. By G. MacDonald. 
10. Mrs. Lorimer. By L. Malet. 

9. The Silence of Dean Maitiand. By 
M. Gray. 3 

8. “The Right Honourable.” By J. 
McCarthy and Mrs. Campbell- 
Praed. 

7. Ninette. By the author of V6ra. 

6. A Virginia Inheritance. By E. 
Pendleton. 

51. The Bondman. By H. Caine. 

5. The Deemster. By H. Caine. 

4. A Counsel of Perfection. By L. 
Malet. 

3. For Fifteen Years. By L. Ulbach. 
2. Eve. By S. Baring-Gould. 

1. The Steel Hammer. By L. Ul- 
bach. 


“In Appletons’ Town and Country Library a poor book has not yet been Dnb- 
lished .” — Toledo Bee. 

“The high average of merit maintained in the Town and Country series 
Is very noticeable .” — Philadelphia Telegraph. 

“ You are always sure of being thoroughly entertained whenever you make a 
selection from Appletons’ Town and Country Library .”— Boston Herald. 

“ It is surprising how good an average is maintained by the Appletons in their 
series of current fiction known as the Town and Country Library .”— Milwaukee 
Free Press. 

“In selecting books for summer reading, one may always feel sure of getting 
something worth reading if they are of Appletons’ Town and Country Library.” 
— Boston Times. 

“ The fact that it is one of the Town and Country Library is a guarantee of 
its excellence, as only the choicest and best stories are selected for this series.” 
—Dubuque Herald. 

“ This series is one of most remarkable excellence, and its reputation has 
become puch that it is by no means an easy matter to find just the work to keep 
it up to its standard .” — Boston Traveler. 

“The assured excellence of D. Appleton and Company’s Town and Country 
Library is a great assistance in purchasing the light literature which is a part of 
the necessarv equipment for travel or for the summer months in the country.” 
— Chicago £lite. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


SIR GILBERT PARKER'S LATEST BOOK* 


Donovan Pasha, and Some People of Egypt. 

By Sir Gilbert Parker, Author of “ The Seats of the 
Mighty," etc. Colored Frontispiece. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

As in the inimitable Doltaire in “ The Seats of the Mighty ” and 
Charley Steele in “ The Right of Way,” Sir Gilbert has again brought 
his remarkable genius into play in the production of a strong central 
character. Dicky Donovan, as he is known to his intimates, or Dono- 
van Pasha, as his Oriental title describes him, is, in his way, as striking 
a creation as either of the others. 

He stands for a type of Englishman who has found his way into 
Egypt and Arabia, there to emphasize by his own sense of right and 
wrong the two opposite poles represented by Eastern and Western 
civilizations. 

Dicky Donovan is supposed to be in the service of the Khedive of 
Egypt, in a confidential capacity, at a time when the throne is totter- 
ing. By his skilful diplomacy he again and again meets Oriental cun- 
ning with European wit. Sometimes it is exercised in behalf of a 
countryman who has violated Mohammedan traditions by penetrating 
the sacred precincts of the harem ; sometimes it is to save an Egyptian 
woman from the terrible consequences of her crime in making the 
pilgrimage to Mecca ; sometimes to save the Khedive himself from the 
rascality and duplicity of his own ministers. 

From the principal character to the least significant the action is 
stirring and dramatic, and the incidents possess the inherent quality of 
possibility. 

Sir Gilbert in his recent trips to Egypt had excellent opportunities 
to study native characteristics, and with his rare talent for analysis de- 
rived more trustworthy knowledge of the subject than could have been 
gained by the average observer in a lifetime. English critics agree that 
his place among novelists of the day is in the front rank ; King Edward 
has paid a tribute to his genius by investing him with the honors of 
knighthood ; the American press declares his popularity permanent ; 
therefore it is not amiss to proclaim “ Donovan Pasha ” as the work of 
a master. 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. 















OCT 31 1902 





1 tun DtL *0 GAI plv* 
OCT. 31 1902 


NOV. 5 W2 



